Skyrim Book I: Aerenwen
by gypsybee09
Summary: Aerenwen, an Altmer warrior, fled her homeland with her siblings as fugitives from the Thalmor. She soon finds herself in Skyrim, separated from her companions and on her way to the executioner's block. Follow Aerenwen as she searches for her family and builds a life in this new land, discovering along the way that fate and the gods had bigger plans for her than she had imagined.
1. A Rude Awakening

Part I: Last Seed, 4E 201

Chapter 1: Rude Awakening (Sundas, 17th of Last Seed)

Her shoulders felt tight, and the pain in her head was the worst she'd ever felt. Her body was being jostled, and her skin was cold. She could hear voices, horses, and the rumble of wheels over gravel and stone. Opening her eyes was a struggle. The sunlight was blinding and worsened the shooting pain, but she eventually succeeded. Squinting against the harsh intrusion of light, she realized she was in a wagon traveling through a coniferous, snow-covered forest. There were three others in the wagon, all sitting with their arms bound behind them. She realized then that was why her shoulders were pulling. Her wrists were bound behind her, leaving her arms in an awkward position that was straining to her muscles.

"You're finally awake," a friendly voice commented.

She looked to her left and made eye contact with a fellow prisoner, a Nord who sat on the side of the carriage opposite her. He was a hulking man, as most Nords were. His muscles bulged beneath his shirt. His long blonde hair was tied back but falling loose, and he was covered in dirt and blood. He wore a set of uniform armor with a blue sash that was torn and bloody. Despite his rough appearance, the bright, blue eyes that met hers were friendly.

"I was beginning to think you never would," the Nord continued.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice hoarse from disuse.

The man shrugged as best he could with his arms bound. "Somewhere in Skyrim," he replied. "We left their camp in the Jeralls near the Cyrodiil border before sunrise, but I'm not certain of exactly where we are at this point."

"We've been captured by the Imperials?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question. By this time, she had noticed the soldier driving the carriage they were in, and his gold and crimson Imperial armor was unmistakable.

"Aye," the Nord replied. "You had the misfortune of getting caught up in an Imperial ambush. It was intended for us, but you were captured in the frey. Same as this horse thief here." He nodded toward the man sitting beside him.

This man was also clearly of Nord descent, though he was less muscular and his hair was darker. He still had the fair features, massive frame, and excessive height. He wore simple clothes, equally dirty but less bloody than the others. "Damn Stormcloaks," the man spat. "This is all your fault. The Empire was good and lazy before you started stirring things up. I could've stollen those horses and been halfway to Hammerfell by now if not for you."

The first Nord chuckled. "We're all brothers in binds now, thief." He turned back toward the woman. "I am Ralof of Riverwood, a soldier for the Stormcloak army."

"Aerenwen," she simply replied. She had no idea who the Stormcloaks were. She studied the other carriage in front of them, hoping to see the familiar faces of her siblings in the prisoners there, but she had no luck. She hoped they had evaded capture, unlike her, and that they hadn't been killed during the skirmish she only vaguely recalled thanks to the bump on her head.

"And you, thief?" Ralof asked.

"Lokir," the man replied. "I hail from Rorikstead." He glanced at the man across from him, seated beside Aerenwen. "What's his problem, anyway?"

This man, even larger than Ralof with similar hair and beard, sat glowering at Aerenwen, and she couldn't help but wonder why either.

"Watch your words!" Ralof barked. "You're in the presence of Ulfric Stormcloak, rightful High King of Skyrim."

"Ulfric?" Lokir replied, sounding panicked. "Jarl of Windhelm? Why, if they've captured you, that means . . . oh gods, where are they taking us?!"

"I know not where we're going," Ralof replied thoughtfully, "but Sovngarde awaits."

The thief began muttering to himself, commenting that he was too young to die and praying to the divines to save them. "This is a mistake!" he called out loudly. "I'm not one of them!" The guard simply barked an order to quiet down, and Lokir turned to Aerenwen. "We have to tell them. You and me, we're not Stormcloaks. We're not involved in the rebellion."

Aerenwen ignored him, lost to her thoughts. An execution. So she was to meet her parents' fate after all.

A walled settlement of some sort came into view as they crested a hill, and the large wooden gates were opened, allowing them to pass through.

"General Tullius!" a soldier standing within the gate called out. "The headsman awaits!"

The thief began ranting again, but Aerenwen sat silent.

"Why, this is Helgen!" Ralof realized. "We're just a couple hours from my home. I used to be sweet on a girl from here."

Aerenwen glanced around at the town, quaint and quiet within it's stone walls. Most of the buildings were a combination of stone and wood architecture. The narrow stone road was spotted with fresh snow and twisted among the buildings. The residents looked upon the small caravan with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. Parents ushered their curious children into their homes, and many spat out insults at the Stormcloak captives.

"Looks like the Thalmor are here," Ralof commented.

Aerenwen, alarmed, followed his gaze to an Altmer woman on horseback. She was speaking with the Imperial general and wearing the familiar embroidered robes of a Thalmor official.

"Most likely they're behind this," Ralof continued. "Damn elves. No offense, friend."

Aerenwen cracked a smile. "None taken," she replied. "I owe no allegiance to the Thalmor, and I assure you, there are those of us at home who are quite opposed to their rule." She wondered now if her capture hadn't been such a mistake after all. If the Thalmor were truly behind the ambush, it was quite possible she and her siblings had been just as much targets as the Stormcloaks were.

The wagons pulled to a stop side-by-side in the shadow of two tall stone towers.

"What's happening? Why have we stopped?" Lokir wondered nervously.

The prisioners were instructed to stand and calmly leave the wagons, and the thief continued his pleading.

"Please! This is a mistake! I'm not one of them!"

Ralof shook his head. "Die with some dignity, thief," he scoffed as the rest quietly stepped down from the wagons.

They were lined up and called by name, one-by-one, and escorted to an area near a chopping block. When Ulfric was called, his followers shouted out his praises and claimed it had been an honor to serve and fight alongside him. When Lokir was called, he attempted to flee. Evading death was in vain. It found him anyway. A line of archers unleashed their arrows as he ran down the street, and he fell almost immediately. The snow around him slowly became stained with red.

When Aerenwen was the only prisoner left standing near the wagons, she was instructed to step forward. The Imperial soldier looked her over and asked her name. At her reply, he asked if she was with the Thalmor embassy. She told him no, and he glanced at the woman beside him, who, judging by her armor, outranked him. "What do we do, Lieutenant?" he asked. "She's not on the list."

"To hell with the list," the woman spat. "She goes to the block with the rest of them."

The soldier nodded but looked on Aerenwen with kindness, and perhaps some pity. "I'm sorry, elf. We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerest Isle."

Aerenwen nodded and gave the man a soft smile. It wasn't his fault, and he was a good man. She could tell. She'd always been good at reading people, and she truly felt, despite the circumstances, this soldier was a good man. Aerenwen felt it unnecessary to tell him that there would be no one at home to receive her body. She rejoined the other prisoners near the chopping block, located at the base of another tall, stone tower, and listened as General Tulius began a long-winded speech outlining the crimes of Ulfric Stormcloak and his followers. Apparently they were responsible for inciting a civil war in Skyrim.

The general's speech was interrupted by a strange and horrible sounding roar. It was obviously from a distance but echoed through the courtyard, startling everyone present.

"What was that?" the kind soldier from earlier wondered.

"Never mind," the general said. "Let's get on it with it."

A priestess began giving a blessing over the prisoners, but she, too, was interrupted by a roar. This one was closer, and the ground seemed to shake with it. The blue sky was suddenly cloud-covered, and Aerenwen couldn't help but feel the air took on a foreboding feel.

"There it is again," the soldier commented. "What could it be?"

"I said never mind!" the general barked, obviously in a hurry to end the execution and hopefully, with it, the civil war.

The first prisoner, a Stormcloak, was escorted to the chopping block. Aerenwen closed her eyes as he kneeled but couldn't close her ears from the sickening sound of the axe severing his head and thumping against the block.

"Next the high elf!" the Lieutenant announced, and Aerenwen found herself pushed forward. Before she knew it, she was forced to her knees and bent over the blood-soaked block. Her nose was assaulted with the sweet and sharp iron scent of the blood, and she thought, for a moment, they could have at least removed the previous prisoner's decapitated body before forcing her to kneel in the puddle of his blood. Her stomach lurched as she saw his head in the basket, eyes staring lifelessly toward the sky.

The headsman loomed over her, his face hidden beneath his black hood. He readied his massive axe, slowly raising it, but was knocked off balance as a third, even louder, roar echoed around them. He steadied himself and took position again but failed to notice the massive beast that had landed on the tower above him.

Enormous and black with massive wings and a serpentine head, the form of the beast was unmistakable. A dragon. Some thought them to be myths. Others that they had been killed off. But this dragon was, without a doubt, very much alive and definitely not a myth. It opened its massive jaws and unleashed a stream of flames from between its jagged teeth. As it did so, the earth quaked with another roar. The headsman fell, and Aerenwen was knocked aside, her head striking the edge of the block. Once again, she lie in darkness.

 **Author's Note: This is one of a series of six I am working on. Each story will follow a different sibling as they make their way through Skyrim, each woven into the main storyline of the game in their own way. I will be adding a chapter weekly, at least, and at times will take a break from Aerenwen's story to bring you into the lives of her siblings in their own stories. When that happens, I will always make a note of it.**


	2. Saved by a Beast

**Disclaimer: Skyrim belongs to Bethesda . . . not me (sadly).**

Chapter 2: Saved by a Beast (Sundas, 17th of Last Seed)

"Elf! Come on, elf!"

Aerenwen woke to a familiar face shaking her. Ralof, the Stormcloak, had somehow been freed of his binds and was doing his best to wake her up. She shook her head, her eyes slowly focusing, and allowed him to help her to her feet.

"Let's go! This way! The gods won't give us another chance."

She followed him across the courtyard, skirting rubble and bodies, doing her best to keep her balance with her hands still bound. Ralof led her into a stone tower on the opposite side of the courtyard and quickly closed the heavy wooden door behind them.

When her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, Aerenwen realized the room was full of surviving Stormcloak prisoners, including Ulfric himself.

"Jarl Ulfric, what was that thing?" Ralof wondered as he hastily cut the binds from Aerenwen's wrists with a dagger. "Could the stories be true?"

"Stories don't burn down villages," the man replied somberly in a deep, accented voice. "We need to keep moving."

"This way," Ralof decided, heading toward the stairwell. "We can access the wall from the top of the tower and find our way to the forest from there."

Aerenwen followed him up the stone stairs that wound up and around the circular wall of the tower. The wall ahead of them suddenly collapsed, throwing huge stone blocks everywhere, burying some and knocking other Stormcloaks from the stairs. The massive head of the dragon soon appeared in the hole, roaring and clapping it's deadly jaws together. A stream of fire came from its throat, and Ralof and Aerenwen jumped back behind one of the fallen stones to avoid it.

The beast disappeared, leaving destruction in its wake, and Aerenwen and Ralof stood looking out the gaping hole in the wall, their way up the tower now blocked by the fallen debris.

"That's the inn," the Nord told her, pointing to a building below them. The thatched roof was scorched and fallen in. "Jump through there and find your way out. I'll catch up after I figure out if there are any survivors below."

Aerenwen nodded and watched as the friendly rebel made his way down the stairs. She took a running leap and fell through the thatched roof of the inn. Despite the distance, she landed on her feet, a benefit of the gracefulness her elven ancestry provided.

The inn was in shambles. Furniture knocked over, walls crumbled. Smoke filled the air, and the Altmer woman coughed as it invaded her lungs. She made her way down the stairs and outside where she was surrounded by pandemonium. Soldiers fired arrows at the dragon, though they seemed to do it no harm. Citizens screamed and cried as they sought shelter. Buildings burned. All around her was death and destruction.

She surveyed the area, looking for the easiest way out. She needed to find her way out of this mess and then find her sisters and brother. Just as she prepared to run she was distracted by the scene nearby.

A young boy sat crying beside the lifeless body of a man, clinging to his hand. The dragon stood not far behind him, and soldiers nearby were attempting to call the boy, whose name was apparently Hamish, away from the danger, but he was frightened and unwilling to leave his father's side.

Aerenwen found herself compelled to help the boy and ran in his direction, crouching beside him. "Hi sweetie," she said softly, placing a comforting hand on his back. "I know you're scared, and I know you don't want to leave your Da, but he wants you to be safe. That's what my Da told me. He said I had to leave him to be safe and that it was okay. So, you need to come with me, Hamish. So you can be safe for your Da. Alright?"

The little boy tearfully nodded and let go of his father's hand, clutching to Aerenwen's tightly. She lead him away from the dragon and toward the soldiers who immediately put themselves between them and the danger.

"Still alive, prisoner?" the friendly soldier from before commented with a smile. "Stick with me, and we'll try to stay that way."

"What of the boy?" Aerenwen asked.

"Looks like Hamish is coming with us," he replied. "Let's go. This way."

The soldier led them through the chaos. They followed the wall along the edge of the town and cut through destroyed buildings when necessary. They reached a courtyard outside the keep as the dragon circled above. Their way into the building was blocked by a group of Stormcloak rebels.

"Hadvar, don't even try to stop us," Ralof announced. "We're escaping."

The soldier shook his head. "Get out of the way, Ralof. There's a dragon destroying the village. You and your comrades are the least of my worries, you damn coward," he growled out, gripping his sword. "I hope that dragon sends you all to Sovngarde."

The rebels ran in one direction, and Ralof called out to Aerenwen to follow them.

She weighed her options, glancing at the small boy clinging to her side. If she followed the soldier, there was a chance she'd be taken into custody again, but her instincts told her this Hadvar was a fair man. He knew her imprisonment was a mistake, and she believed he would help her clear her name. Whereas if she ran off with the rebels, she truly would become a criminal in this new land. The choice seemed easy. She shook her head at Ralof who appeared confused at her choice. "Good luck," she mouthed as she followed Hadvar into the keep. The Stormcloak nodded and wished her the same.

 **Author's Note: I know the boy from Helgen in the game was called Haming. I borrowed that scene to use for my boy, Hamish, but in my mind, they aren't the same child. Haming went to live with his grandfather after Alduin destroyed his home and may appear in my story eventually. I haven't really decided if I'm going to include that Kyne quest as it's not really an important side quest as the main storyline goes. Hamish, however, is now an orphan with no living family, and he will play a main role in Aerenwen's life from here on. If you hadn't already figured it out, Aerenwen's storyline will follow the main quest line of the game, although there will be deviations and additions when I find them appropriate for the sake of this story.**


	3. New Friends

Chapter 3: New Friends (Sundas, 17th of Last Seed)

The sun was high in the sky as the trio stood outside Helgen and watched the dragon disappear over the distant mountains. Finding their way out of the keep had been challenging as walls and ceilings continually collapsed, and Stormcloak rebels engaged them whenever they met. They'd finally found their way out through a collapsed wall in the torture chamber which led them into an underground cavern. Following a stream, they found their way outside through a cave entrance. Now they stood, exhausted and sore, wondering what to do next.

"Looks like the dragon's gone," Hadvar commented, "although I've no intention to stick around to find out if he's coming back." He glanced at Aerenwen and smiled. "Thank you. I don't know if the boy and I would've made it out of there alive without your help. You're quite the swordswoman."

Aerenwen nodded. "I owe you my thanks as well. Just a few hours ago I was knelt over an executioner's block for no apparent reason, and here I stand, a free woman."

"I knew you didn't belong in that carriage the moment I saw you," the soldier grinned. His gray eyes danced when he smiled, and he reached up to remove the steel helmet from atop his head, revealing neatly cut reddish-brown hair. "How did you end up with the Stormcloaks, anyway?"

"It was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time," Aerenwen explained. "I was camped nearby with my siblings and gathering kindling for our fire. I stumbled upon the ambush and before I could get away, one of the soldiers had knocked me out. The next thing I knew, I was in that carriage with my hands bound."

"My grandmother always said everything happens for a reason," Hadvar replied. "I don't know why you were mistakenly captured or why we managed to survive Helgen, but the divines needed us both in this place at this time for a reason. Where will you go now?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Aerenwen answered with a sigh. "I need to find my siblings, but I've no idea where to look or even if they're alive."

"You should really consider traveling to Solitude and joining the Legion," Hadvar commented. "I know today wasn't exactly the best introduction to us, but we could really use a warrior like you. Besides, if the rebels have somehow recruited a dragon, General Tulius will be the only one who knows what to do."

Aerenwen thought the idea that the dragon worked for the Stormcloaks was a bit far-fetched, but she simply answered she would give the offer some thought.

"In the meantime, Riverwood is the next town," Hadvar told her. "It's not far from here, and my uncle is the blacksmith there. I'm sure he'd be happy to help you in whatever way he can - be that a place to stay until you decide your next move or just a warm meal before you strike off."

"Thank you," Aerenwen replied. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."

Hadvar glanced at the boy and chuckled. "I'm not sure Hamish would have it any other way."

Aerenwen smiled down at the child who still had a vice-grip on her hand. She ruffled his blonde hair with her other hand.

* * *

Riverwood was a small town, if you could even call it that. It boasted less than a dozen buildings and was nestled between the base of the mountain they had just descended and a swift-moving river. The buildings were simple, small cottages constructed from wood, and a large lumber mill was located on the river, its wheel turning in the flowing rapids. Upon entering the town, Hadvar immediately led them to a home with a large porch. The sound of metal clanging could be heard - a familiar sound to Aerenwen who had grown up around her father's forge.

"There's my uncle," Hadvar commented as a hulking Nord came into view on the porch. "Uncle Alvor!"

A tall beast of a Nord with long blonde hair and a full blonde beard, slightly tinged with gray, stopped his work and approached the steps to the porch, his face showing the surprise he had toward his unexpected guests. "Hadvar? What are you doing here? Are you on leave from . . ." as the trio stepped closer, he stopped mid-sentence. "Shor's Bones! What happened to you, boy?"

"It's best we talk inside, uncle," Hadvar replied, glancing around where citizens were walking down the street. Discussing a dragon out in the open would no doubt incite some sort of panic.

"What's going on? Are you alright? Who's this?" his uncle asked.

"This is Aerenwen," Hadvar replied. "She's a friend. Saved my life, in fact. And the boy is Hamish. Please, let's go inside, and I'll tell you everything."

"Very well," Alvor answered, still looking skeptically at Aerenwen. "Come then. Sigrid will get you all something to eat, and you can tell me what's going on."

As they walked up the steps of the house, Aerenwen was distracted by raised voices across the street.

"A dragon! I saw a dragon!" an old woman exclaimed.

"Hush, mother, you saw no such thing," a young blonde man scolded.

"I did! It was a dragon, I tell you," she answered. "Big as a house and black as night. It flew right up over the barrow!" She pointed toward the mountains across the river.

"Mother, get inside. The village already thinks you're crazy as it is," the man said sternly as he basically dragged the old woman into the home.

Aerenwen chuckled to herself. If only he knew just how right his mother was.

* * *

"Come in. Sit," the gruff blacksmith said with a wave of his large hand as he headed toward the wooden table and sat heavily down in one of the chairs. "Sigrid! We have company!"

Hadvar sat across the table from his uncle, and Aerenwen took a moment to look around the cozy home. A large stone fireplace was situated in the middle of the far wall. Enticing aromas wafted out of an iron pot hanging over the roaring blaze. The table and chairs sat across from the fire, and two beds - one large and one small - were nestled into the area to the right of the door. Some barrels and storage shelves were located on the far side of the room. The ceiling was high and peaked with large wooden beams supporting the roof.

A petite woman with golden brown hair worn in a braid down her back appeared at the top of a set of stairs beyond the table. "Hadvar!" she exclaimed, rushing to embrace her nephew who honestly looked as though he could be the same age as she was. There was, by appearance at least, quite the age difference between her and her husband. "What are you doing here? We've been worried about you!"

"Hadvar and his friends are looking for something to eat, wife," Alvor told her. "They look to have run into some trouble, and the boy has a tale for us, he says."

Sigrid nodded and quickly went to the shelves, retrieving a bottle of mead. Aerenwen took a seat at the end of the table and smiled at the woman as she sat a mug down in front of her. She then went to work stirring a pot over the fire and setting up some cushions near it for Hamish to sit on and warm himself. A little blonde girl had followed her into the room and sat beside the boy, taking his hand with a comforting smile, as if somehow knowing he had just had his entire world ripped away from him.

"So what's going on, Hadvar?" Alvor asked after taking a big gulp of his ale. Droplets of the dark liquid remained on his beard, and he brushed them away with the sleeve of his tunic. "What are you doing here, looking like you lost a fight with a cave bear?"

"I don't even know where to start," Hadvar replied. He held his mug of ale in both hands but had yet to take a drink. He glanced at Aerenwen, and seeming to gain some courage from her soft smile, he began his story. "You know I was assigned to General Tulius' guard."

His uncle nodded, though it hadn't really been posed as a question.

"We set up an ambush in the mountains near the Cyrodiil border, caught some Stormcloaks early yesterday evening," the younger man continued. "Originally we were to take them back to the Imperial City for questioning, but when the general realized Ulfric Stormcloak was among them, he changed his mind, and we headed for Helgen for an execution."

Sigrid's gray eyes widened almost comically at the mention of the rebel leader, but she didn't say a word as she laid a bowl of venison stew in front of each of them. Alvor, too, stayed silent, allowing his nephew to continue.

"Things went as planned, then all of a sudden we were attacked this morning, by a . . . by a dragon."

"A dragon!?" his uncle exclaimed, choking on his drink of mead. Sigrid absentmindedly patted her husband on his back. "Are you drunk, boy!?"

"Hush, husband," the young woman scolded. "Let Hadvar finish his story."

"I know it sounds crazy," Hadvar continued, "but I saw it with my own eyes. It swooped down out of nowhere and completely destroyed everything. Helgen is in ruins. So many dead." He lowered his voice and nodded toward Hamish who had fallen asleep beside his new friend, exhausted from the day's events. "The boy, Hamish, his parents were both killed. So many of my comrades. Honestly, I'm not sure if anyone aside from us made it out alive. I'm not sure if I would've if not for my friend here."

"This is insane," his uncle said, his voice still one of disbelief, "but if what you say is true, the Jarl must be notified. Riverwood, perhaps all of Whiterun Hold, is in danger!"

Hadvar nodded. "I need to hurry back to Solitude," he explained. "I need to get word to the Legion of what happened in case the general didn't survive."

"Of course," Sigrid responded, "but first, you'll rest here for the night. After the day you've had, you've earned a night's rest with a roof over your head. Travel to Solitude will be safer by light of day, anyway." She turned to Aerenwen with a grateful smile. "And you are welcome to stay as well," she told her. "In fact, we insist."

"Of course," her husband echoed. "Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of ours. I'll strike off to Whiterun in the morning to give warning to the Jarl."

"Oh, Alvor, must you?" his young wife worried. "The road is so dangerous now with the war, and what if the dragon comes while you're away?"

The middle-aged blacksmith looked torn between his need to protect his family and his loyalty to his Jarl.

"If I may," Aerenwen interrupted, "I could travel to Whiterun and bring word of Helgen to the Jarl. I'm not certain as to what my next step will be, anyhow, and it's the least I can do after Hadvar's aide and your hospitality."

The entire family smiled with gratitude at the Altmer woman.

"Riverwood is in your debt," Alvor commented solemnly.

They made small talk for a short time, updating Hadvar on the happenings of the family while he had been away. Aerenwen surmised from the conversation that the soldier's parents had died when he was younger than Hamish, and he had been raised by his uncle since then.

"Who were those other prisoners? The Stormcloaks?" Aerenwen finally asked her new friend when there was a lull in the conversation.

"Ah, you are new to Skyrim, then," he replied with a nod. "I thought as much. The Stormcloaks are a group of rebel Nords following the lead of Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, in a quest to gain independence for Skyrim from the Empire. In truth, I think Ulfric is using the public's unhappiness with the Emperor's acquiesence to the Thalmor as a rouse to grow his own power. He has his sights on the throne of High King, even murdered High King Torygg."

"Shouted him to death if you believe the tales," Alvor added.

"What do the Thalmor have to do with this?" Aerenwen wondered. It seemed even in Skyrim, she couldn't escape their influence.

"It's the damn Thalmor arresting people and dragging them out of their homes at all hours of the night that lead to Ulfric gaining so many followers, if you ask me," Alvor replied.

"Why are they allowed to do that?"

"It's from the treaty that ended the Great War thirty years ago," the blacksmith explained between bites of his stew. "They banned the worship of Talos."

Seeing Aerenwen's confusion, Hadvar elaborated. "Talos is one of the nine deities in the pantheon that the Nords of Skyrim have worshipped for generations. He was once a man, an emperor, Tiber Septim, and he made the Empire great. So heroic were his deeds in life, he was made a god after death. The Thalmor disagree with this, I guess. In order to end the war, the Empire had to agree to have him stricken from our pantheon, and his worship has been illegal ever since. I guess in other parts of the Empire it wasn't such a big deal, but he's sort of the patron of Skyrim, native son and all that, so it's been a hard change for most."

"When I was a boy, it wasn't paid much attention to," Alvor added. "Most everyone you knew had their own little shrine to Talos in their home, and we just worshipped him quietly. But then Ulfric and his sympathizers started agitating about it, and it was harder to ignore. Throw in him murdering the High King, and you've got a war on your hands. If the Empire ignores that kind of a thing, we're back to the bad ol' days of Jarls killing Jarls."

"You don't have any sympathies to the Thalmor, do you?" Sigrid asked. It wasn't that she didn't trust the woman. She had, after all, saved Hadvar's life. But trust of outsiders was hard-earned in Skyrim, especially when they shared a race with those who contributed to their lives being so difficult.

"Quite the opposite, actually," the high elf replied, feeling comfortable sharing her story with these kind people. "It isn't just outside of my homeland that people are unhappy with the Thalmor. At home, there are many who disagree with their methods, but whenever someone speaks out against them, suddenly proof of some crime they've commited comes forward, or they simply disappear. It's been that way for years. When I was a child, my neighbor, a girl named Mirren, was my best friend. One night, she and her family were taken by the Thalmor. It was all done in secret, of course. We woke up, and they were just gone. No one dared to say a word for fear their families would meet the same fate."

"That's horrible," Sigrid commented quietly.

Aerenwen nodded her agreement. "My family was never looked upon highly by the Thalmor. My father served in the Great War and hated every minute of it. He wished for a life of peace with his family afterward and refused to serve them. Because he was one of the most talented blacksmiths in Aldmeris, he was left alone, for the most part, because his weapons were contributing to the cause in their own way, even if his magic and combat skills weren't, but he was always watched. My mother came from a long line of Psijiic monks, who are greatly distrusted by the Thalmor, so she was under constant scrutiny as well. When my brother joined a revololutionary group that spoke against the Thalmor and commited acts of terrorism against them, it was the last straw for my family. My brother and parents were arrested. My sisters and I would've been as well, but we were all away at the time and managed to illude capture. We were able to infiltrate a Thalmor fort and secure our brother, but just as we were freeing our parents from a nearby prison, we were caught. My father ordered us to flee with our brother and never return, and as much as we hated to, we followed his wishes. I imagine they're both dead now."

"What of your siblings?" Hadvar asked.

Aerenwen shrugged. "We decided to make our way to Skyrim, both because we knew the Thalmor were less established here than in other provinces, and because one of our only living relatives, our father's brother, Borir, was last known to live here. He traveled Skyrim as a mercenary and bard, and we received the occasional letter from him up until a few years ago. My mother always suspected the Thalmor had begun to intercept them, though there is the chance he's no longer living.

"Anyway, we had made it as far as the border and set up camp before nightfall yesterday," she continued. "We split up to find food and gather fire supplies. I was on a search for kindling when I stumbled upon the ambush Hadvar spoke of. I immediately tried to get away but was apparently struck over the head by someone - an Imperial or a Stormcloak, I've no idea which - and the next thing I remember, I was waking up in the back of a carriage on my way to Helgen."

"Aerenwen was mistaken as one of the rebels," Hadvar explained. "She was set to be executed before the dragon attacked."

"In that way, I suppose, as horrible as it is, the dragon was a bit of a stroke of luck for me," Aerenwen added with an ironic grin. "If my life was spared, and I've been dropped in the middle of all this, the least I can do is help. I've no idea where to start looking for my siblings, anyway."

"If they're all right, and they're continuing on the same path you were before the ambush, they'll head straight to Helgen," Hadvar told her. "With the town in ruins, they'll either end up following the roads to Ivarstead, Falkreath, or Riverwood."

"We'll keep an eye out," Sigrid offered.

"Thank you," Aerenwen replied. "I ask for your discretion, though. We are wanted by the Thalmor. I thought, for certain, when I saw that Thalmor embassador this morning, my imprisonment hadn't been such a mistake after all."

Hadvar shook his head. "The Legion has heard nothing of any Altmer siblings wanted in Skyrim or Cyrodiil. The Thalmor don't make us privy to their plans and agendas unless absolutely necessary. Relations are still strained. Most who are loyal to the Empire aren't loyal to the Thalmor. The rebels would do well to remember that the Emperor only signed that treaty and outlawed Talos because he had no other choice. From what I'm told, we were losing that war, and if we hadn't submitted in some ways, we would be a part of the Aldmeri Dominion now."

"Damn Thalmor are a nuisance, that's for sure," Alvor agreed, "but we can't do much about it if we're fighting each other."

"I suspect that's exactly what the Thalmor want," Aerenwen commented.

Hadvar looked surprised at that thought. "I'd never stopped to think of that. I don't trust them, I know the general doesn't, but it never occured to me they could be doing things behind the scenes to help spawn the conflict in Skyrim. It would make sense."

Alvor hummed his agreement. "The Empire will come out on top. It always has," he proclaimed. "Soon folks'll see Ulfric for the braggart he is. I support the Empire, and I always will. I may not agree with all they've done, but they had our best interests at heart. Nords are not fair-weather friends."

"What of your Jarl?" Aerenwen asked. "Does he favor the Empire or the Stormcloaks?"

"I'm not quite certain if he favors Ulfric or Elisif," Alvor replied. "Thus far, he's managed to keep Whiterun out of the war, but I'm sure he'll be forced to choose a side eventually. I suspect it will be that of the Empire. He's loyal and cares about his citizens. And I've no doubt he sees Ulfric for what he truly is."

"Who is Elisif?"

"She's the Jarl of Solitude," Alvor replied, "though only because she was married to High King Torygg when he was killed. I suspect Balgruuf will support her so long as the Empire does, although, in my opinion, he'd make the best High King himself."

Hadvar chuckled. "We all know Jarl Balgruuf has no interest in that throne."

"I suppose I should get a few more hours of work in before nightfall," Alvor stated, finishing the last of his mead and standing up. "Make yourselves to home."

"So it's settled then," Sigrid stated after he'd left. "You'll all spend the night, and in the morning, you can strike off on your business. I insist, Aerenwen, that you return here tomorrow night. Plan to stay with us until you figure out your next move or at least until you've earned some coin to pay for a decent room at the inn. I'll not have you sleeping under the stars somewhere after saving Hadvar's life." She placed an affectionate hand on her nephew's shoulder, and Aerenwen swore she saw the man blush.

"What of the boy?" Aerenwen asked.

"He has no family?" Sigrid wondered.

"Not that I'm aware of," Hadvar replied. "I knew his parents. Both were the only ones of their siblings to make it to adulthood, and their parents have been long dead as well. He's developed quite the fondness for Aerenwen during our difficult time. If it wasn't for her, he most likely would've been in that dragon's belly."

"I wish I knew what my future held," the elf commented sadly. "For some reason, I'm drawn to help the boy. I need him to be safe. Whether it's because we share a similar loss so recently or for some other reason, I'm not sure. I've never thought of myself as a motherly type, but if I had a safe home to bring him to, I'd take him in without question."

"He can stay here for some time," Sigrid offered, casting a caring smile at the sleeping child. "We can afford to feed another mouth for a few weeks, and Dorthe seems to have taken a liking to him. If in a month's time, you're still unable to take him, we may have to look into other options, but I do hate to see him end up at the orphanage in Riften."

Aerenwen expressed her gratitude.

She was shown to Dorthe's bed where she would be staying as long as she was their guest. The little blonde girl had climbed up on her cousin's lap as soon as the adults had finished talking and was firing off rapid questions about the dragon.

"Dorthe, let your cousin rest," her mother ordered, though her smile could be heard in her voice. "Stop pestering him so."

Hadvar chuckled and ruffled his cousin's hair.

That night Aerenwen fell asleep in a warm bed beneath a solid roof with a full tummy and wrapped in dry blankets for the first time in weeks.

 **Author's Note: This is sort of a filler chapter, filling us in a bit on Aerenwen's backstory and the current political climate in Skyrim. Playing the game, I always liked Hadvar and Ralof; I've followed both. For the sake of this story, however, I think it is more fitting that Aerenwen followed Hadvar than the rebel. She wants to stay under the radar and not be a wanted felon anymore than she already is . . . following the Stormcloaks would have her on the run from not only the Thalmor but the Empire as well. Plus, she had the welfare of the boy to think about. Sigrid will become a good friend to her, as will Hadvar, and Ralof will most likely be back.**


	4. Beauty and the Giant

Chapter 4: Beauty and the Giant (Morndas, 18th of Last Seed)

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast of chicken eggs, grilled venison, and baked apples, the group of newfound friends stood on the porch of Alvor and Sigrid's house. Aerenwen and Hadvar were dressed for travel, Hadvar in his freshly cleaned (though still scorched) uniform and Aerenwen in a simple blue dress Sigrid had given her. The others were seeing them off. Hamish had been sad to learn of their leaving but seemed relieved when he was promised Aerenwen would return before nightfall.

She would be traveling to Whiterun alone. Hadvar had decided to return to Helgen before traveling north. He wasn't certain what he would find, or even what he hoped to find - survivors? answers? - but he felt he needed to see the destruction one last time before reporting to his superiors. He knew they would have numerous questions.

"Remember, take the road to the right after you cross the bridge outside of town," Sigrid instructed. "Follow that road downriver, and you can't miss Whiterun rising out of the planes ahead of you like a mountain. At the crossroads, it's a left, passed the Honningbrew Meadery, and you'll come to the stables right outside of town. It's a couple of hours travel on foot. Not a bad trip, really. We used to make it ourselves once a month before the war. Now you need to be on the lookout for bandits. The soldiers and guards are too tied up fighting each other to keep the roads as safe as they used to." She passed Aerenwen a satchel with some food and made her promise, for the fifth time, to return to their home that night.

Aerenwen thanked them again for their kindness and began her journey.

It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear blue, and the sound of birds and the rushing water of the White River serenaded her as she walked the stone road. Skyrim truly was a beautiful land with its snow-covered mountains and vast wilderness. Aerenwen hoped she would have the opportunity to explore it.

The journey was a quiet one for the most part. The only wildlife she encountered were a few deer and foxes along the road. She passed a currier, hurrying along, who greeted her simply with a nod, in too much of a hurry for small talk. As she rounded a corner where the river turned into a set of roaring steppe-falls, she could see the hold's capital rising above the planes just as Sigrid had described. The palace, and the walled city below it, looked like a manmade mountain in the expanse of flatness.

The closer she got to the city, she saw a few guards here and there. Their uniforms were simple scaled armor with tan sashes draped over them, full steel helmets that hid their faces, and a tan shield baring an emblem of a horse. They nodded at Aerenwen as she passed but didn't speak, and like the other Nords she had encountered, seemed slightly suspicious of her presence.

She had just passed the Honningbrew Meadery when a farm came into view. In one of the fields a battle ensued between a giant and three warriors. The ground quaked with each hit of the giant's massive wooden club, and the warriors raced around his feet as they attempted to take him down.

Always one for adventure, Aerenwen thought the idea of taking down a giant was a thrilling one. This was the first she'd seen, but her uncle had often written of them in his letters.

She unsheathed her sword and ran to join the fray. The giant didn't see her coming, and she was able to slice her blade through the tendons at the back of his left ankle. He cried out in pain and fell forward, allowing the largest of the warriors, a Nord man in full armor, to cleave off his head with one mighty swing of his longsword.

Aerenwen stood over the giant then, taking in the massive beast with her eyes. Her uncle had said they were generally peaceful creatures, but on a few occasions, he'd been hired to take care of one that was causing problems for a farm, stealing their livestock and trampling their crops. She wondered if this were a similar case.

"Thank you for the assistance," a woman's voice stated.

Aerenwen turned and met the gray-green eyes of what was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. This warrior woman was thin but curved in all the right places. Her muscles were defined but not so much so as to make her look hard or masculine. She wore armor that was an odd mix of hide, steel, and fur. A quiver of arrows was strapped to her back, and she held a hunting bow in her right hand. Her hair was a brownish red, auburn, and hung loosely to her shoulders. Her facial features were small and rounded, partially obscured by the warpaint she wore in the design of claw marks stretched across her eyes. And those eyes . . . a swarming sea of secrets that seemed to look deep within Aerenwen.

"You handle yourself well," the woman complimented, pulling the elf from her thoughts. "You'd make for a decent shield-sister."

The term confused Aerenwen. "A shield-sister?"

"An outsider, eh?" the woman replied with a smirk. "We are the Companions, a group of warriors who pledge to support each other as brothers and sisters in arms. If you're interested in joining, you should think of talking to Kodlak Whitemane at Jorrvaskr. We could use a woman like you."

Aerenwen couldn't get over her reaction to this Nord woman. Though she'd had intimate encounters with both sexes over the years, she'd honestly never gleaned much pleasure from them. She'd never had a reaction emotionally to another as any more than friendship, and she'd never really felt an attraction either. Certainly not one as strong as this one that had her thoughts jumbled and her body reacting in ways she was unfamiliar with. She'd often wondered if she was just truly meant to be alone and would never experience the love and partnership she saw between her parents or the physical pleasure she heard about from her siblings. This woman, however, seemed to be changing all that.

"I'll give it some thought," she replied simply, unable to focus her words into anything more detailed.

"I hope so," the woman answered. She looked the elf up and down with another smirk. "I certainly wouldn't mind having someone like you amongst us. Safe travels, elf. I hope to see you at Jorrvaskr."

Aerenwen simply nodded and continued down the road to Whiterun, shaking her head to rattle off the fog she found herself in. First, she would visit the Jarl and complete her errand. Then, she would consider visiting this Jorrvaskr and learning more about the Companions and subsequently the Nordic beauty she felt would not be leaving her mind any time soon.

* * *

Getting into the city had been a bit more trouble than Aerenwen had anticipated. Word of trouble in Helgen seemed to have reached Whiterun, and the city was on lockdown. The guards didn't appear to know the exact nature of the trouble in the fortified town to the south, but they were following orders and not allowing visitors in. Being an Altmer, they seemed especially suspicious of Aerenwen. After telling them she had come from Helgen and wished to report what she had seen to the Jarl, they agreed to let her enter.

Whiterun was a bustling city, and Aerenwen couldn't help but feel comfortable in its welcoming streets. The architecture, a mixture of wood, clay and stone, had a more elegant style than the simple cottages of Riverwood, even Helgen, and portrayed comfort. Wooden carvings of dragons adorned the buildings and decorative plants and trees were scattered amongst the structures. The people were friendly, and the streets were clean. Add to it the beautiful summer day with the sun climbing in the bright blue sky, and Aerenwen's mood was quite high, considering.

The first place of business she noticed upon entering the city was a blacksmith's shop, recognizable by the smelter, forge, workbench, and tools beneath the lean-to at the side of the building. A sign over the door read 'Warmaiden's', and Aerenwen was intrigued as she usually was with blacksmith shops. She couldn't take the time to stop, however, and continued on, only hearing a small bit of the argument between a pretty woman in a blacksmith's apron and a hulking Nord in Imperial armor - something about weapons and Gray-Manes.

Dragonsreach was at the very top of the walled city, a massive palace reached after climbing dozens of steps. Aerenwen was again stopped at the door by the guards.

"I assume the guards at the gate had a good reason for letting you through," the man stated. "The Jarl isn't accepting visitors. State your business."

"I come with word from Helgen," she replied simply, and after the guards exchanged a surprised glance, she was quickly escorted into the palace.

Almost immediately they were approached by a red-headed Dunmer in full steel armor, sword ready. "What is the meaning of this interruption?" she asked sternly. "You know the Jarl isn't accepting visitors."

"Forgive us, Lady Irileth," the guard who had escorted the visitor in apologized. "She says she has news of Helgen. We thought the Jarl would want to see her."

The woman, Irileth, quickly sheathed her sword and made eye contact with Aerenwen. The High Elf had always found the red-hued eyes of her Dunmer brethren to be a bit disconcerting. "You were at Helgen?"

"Yes," she replied. "I saw what happened with my own eyes."

"The Jarl will want to speak with you himself. Come. This way," she turned and lead the taller elf toward the throne situated at the end of the great hall. "Return to your post," she ordered, waving the guard away.

The throne of Whiterun was a large, ornately carved wooden seat. What appeared to be a dragon's skull hung on the tall wall behind it. From his perch, Jarl Balgruuf could look over the entire expanse of the massive great hall of Dragonsreach. The long tables were empty, and aside from guards, only two men accompanied the Jarl. One wore fine clothes and appeared to be of Imperial descent. The other was unmistakably a Nord, his red hair and beard both braided, wearing heavy armor and armed to the hilt.

"Excuse the interruption, Jarl," the guard, Irileth, stated boldly. "This Altmer woman claims to have come from Helgen. She wishes to report what she has seen directly to you."

"Of course," the Jarl, a man of great stature, hulking muscles, and graying-blonde hair, spoke, looking directly at Aerenwen. "Speak, elf."

"I was in Helgen when it was destroyed," she began. "A dragon came out of nowhere and devastated the city. I was able to escape via an underground passage beneath the keep alongside an Imperial soldier and an orphaned child. We fled to Riverwood and were taken in for the night by Alvor, the blacksmith, and his family. I'm uncertain as to whether there were any other survivors."

"By the gods," the Jarl muttered. "Irileth, you were right! Tell me, where did you last see this dragon?"

"It flew over the western mountains, sir," she replied. "Beyond a place the locals referred to as Bleak Falls Barrow."

"The Barrow? Really?" The Jarl seemed deep in thought for a moment before he was interrupted by his Dunmer bodyguard.

"Jarl Balgruuf, we must send troops to Riverwood at once," she stated. "The village is in the greatest danger based upon the dragon's last known location, and the people are entirely defenseless."

The Jarl began to agree but was interrupted by the fine dressed Imperial at his side.

"We must act cautiously," he warned. "The Jarl of Falkreath may see troops in Riverwood as an act of aggression and assume we've sided with the Stormcloaks."

"I will not leave my people and my hold defenseless," the Jarl replied. "Irileth, send detachments to both Riverwood and Rorikstead at once. Expand the guard already located at the watchtowers, and increase the frequency of patrols to the outlying farms. Proventius, pen a letter to Jarl Siddgeir, explaining the situation. He's young and hard-headed but not unreasonable. He should be warned of the attack as well."

"Of course, sir," the man, Proventius, replied, disappearing around a corner to the right.

Irileth, too, quickly left the hall, leaving through the same massive doorway Aerenwen had arrived through.

"You, elf, what are you called?" the Jarl asked.

"I am Aerenwen," she replied humbly. "I arrived in Skyrim only yesterday. Helgen was my first stop."

"What an unfortunate turn of events for you to have become involved in," the Jarl commented, "but Whiterun thanks you. Rumors cannot be trusted. We had heard of the attack on Helgen but had no confirmation of from where the attack originated, so thank you for taking the initiative to come to me and warn us. My hold is in your debt."

Aerenwen simply nodded. She was, thus far, impressed with this Jarl.

"Do you plan to stay in Whiterun long?" he asked.

"I'm not certain. As I said, I'm new to Skyrim. My siblings and I were separated, but we were looking for our uncle, Borir, a traveling mercenary and bard. I really haven't any idea where I should begin looking for any of them."

"I recognize the name Borir," the Jarl replied. "He has traveled through my city before, though I cannot tell you when he last visited. You are welcome in Whiterun for as long as you like, Aerenwen. And, so you may know, although Thalmor emissaries can be seen traveling the roads throughout the hold, there is no Thalmor presence within this city."

How perceptive, Aerenwen noted. She thanked him for his hospitality.

"Aside from the dragon, how are you liking Whiterun so far?" he asked.

"I've only just arrived in the city before coming to you, so I've not had much time to explore it yet," she replied, "but the people seem welcoming, and the city is beautiful. My stay in Riverwood last night was quite nice, and I've promised I would return for another night after relaying my message to you."

"Alvor is a good man," the Jarl commented. "A true Nord. Loyal and hard-working."

"This civil war I've been thrust into," Aerenwen commented. "On which side are you?"

The Jarl chuckled. "Why, I'm on the side of Whiterun, little elf. Jarl Elisif and General Tulius would, no doubt, say I owe allegiance to the Emperor because of all the Empire has done for Skyrim. Jarl Ulfric would state my allegiance as a Nord should be with him and the Stormcloaks. In truth, they're both right. I am doing my best to keep my people and my hold out of this foolish war, but a time may come I need to pick sides, and when I do so, it will be with the best interests of Whiterun at heart."

"What will you do if a dragon attacks, sir?" Aerenwen wondered. "Will the guards you sent to the villages be enough?"

"Most likely not," he answered solemnly. "It's been hundreds of years since a dragon has been seen in Skyrim. We've no idea how to fight them. The guards in my outlying villages will have one primary duty - to get the citizens to safety. If the villages are destroyed, so be it. Here in Whiterun, I will increase our store of water to battle fires, and we'll do our best to stave off an attack should it come. Speaking of the dragon, again, my court wizard, Farengar Secret-Fire, has always had a fascination with them. I suppose with them returning, I'll need to allow him to spend more time on his research. I should introduce you. He'd, no doubt, like to hear what you saw."

The court wizard was a tall Nord, though beneath his dark mage robes he appeared to be quite thin in comparison to the warriors and laborers Aerenwen had encountered thus far. He was distracted and muttering to himself, bent over a table, when the Jarl and his guest approached.

"Farengar, I need to speak to you," the Jarl interrupted, startling the man who visibly jumped.

"Oh, of course, Jarl, I apologize, I will return to the enchantment you were asking for," he stuttered in reply. "This dragon research can wait."

"Continue with your research," the Jarl replied. "It seems any insight you may have on dragons will become more of a priority now. This High Elf, Aerenwen, comes from Helgen. The town was just decimated by a dragon."

The wizards eyes, shadowed by his hood, widened almost comically. "A dragon!? Seen alive!? This is amazing!"

"Amazing isn't exactly the word I would use for it," the Jarl commented dryly.

"You must tell me everything," the wizard rushed on, not even noticing the Jarl's sarcasm. "What did it look like? What powers did it appear to have? Where did it come from? Where did it go?"

"Slow down, wizard. Let the elf answer one question before you move onto the next."

"Of course, of course. I apologize. Speak."

"I've no idea where it came from," Aerenwen replied. "I assume it was lurking in the mountains above Helgen before the attack as we heard several roars before it came into sight. It was massive and black with great wings. The ground quivered when it landed and whenever it roared. It breathed fire, and somehow, the sky clouded over on its approach and fireballs seemed to rain down from the heavens."

"Hmmm. Some sort of weather control it sounds like," the wizard commented, jotting down some notes in a book on his table.

"It was last seen flying over Bleak Falls Barrow," Aerenwen finished. "As far as I know, Helgen is the only place it has attacked."

"Bleak Falls Barrow? Really?"

"I thought you would find that part interesting, Farengar. His research has recently led him to some sort of dragon relic located within the barrow," the Jarl explained to Aerenwen. "He's been after me to hire the Companions or a mercenary to retrieve it, but dead dragons weren't exactly a priority for court spending. I suppose, now, it's something that must be done. Any information on the dragons we can find is necessary. Would you, perhaps, be interested in retrieving this relic for us? There will be a great deal of coin in it for you when you return."

"Yes, I will do it," Aerenwen replied, her serious tone doing well to conceal the excitement she felt within at the opportunity of an adventure. She'd been eager to explore the ancient ruin ever since Hadvar had pointed out it's enormous stone arches on their trip to Riverwood, and getting paid to do so sounded like a job right up her alley.

"Very well. Thank you again for your service. I'll leave you two to hash out the finer details. We shall look for your return in two days' time. That should give you some time to prepare for what will, no doubt, be a hazardous endeavor."

After the Jarl left, the wizard seemed content to return to his books, so Aerenwen was forced to ask questions to find out exactly what she was looking for. "So, this Dragonstone. What is it exactly?"

"Honestly, I'm not entirely certain," the wizard replied. "It was brought to my attention in a text I was reading, and a colleague of mine helped me trace its location to Bleak Falls Barrow. It's an ancient stone, engraved with what we believe to be a map of ancient dragon burial mounds."

"How will that be of help to us?" Aerenwen asked. "We're dealing with a living dragon, not long-dead ones."

"Aye, that is true," he agreed, "however, at this point, we know so little of the dragons, any information we can get our hands on is valuable. We cannot ignore the knowledge of this relic's location, even if it ends up not being of much help in our current predicament." The wizard crossed the room and began thumbing through his collection of books on the subject. "Bleak Falls Barrow is an ancient ruin. It likely pre-dates the Dragon War itself. It's a burial chamber, of course, and I would assume someone important is buried deep within it, and the Dragonstone most likely will be within that chamber. However, the chamber has never been formerly excavated or explored by anyone looking for knowledge rather than riches. It could be full of information on dragons we aren't even aware is there. Keep your eyes open for anything that could be of some help."

"What is the Dragon War?" Aerenwen asked.

"Not being a native, I'm not surprised you've never heard of it," Farengar replied with a smile. This subject was obviously something he was extremely passionate about. "I, myself, was raised in Skyrim and believed it to be a myth until I began myresearch. Years ago, the ancient Nords revered dragons as gods. These beasts ruled over Skyrim and had priests who served them. Eventually, the ancient Nords found a way to overthrow the dragons and corrupt dragonpriests, but it was not without bloodshed. This great war was known as the Dragon War. Many lost their lives - dragons and men alike - but the Nords persevered, and from then on, dragons were hunted. Eventually to their extinction, or so we believed." He passed two brown leather-bound books to Aerenwen. "Here are some books I have on the subject. Duplicates, of course. You seem to be scholarly and not just some brute the Jarl pulled in off the street. You know the location of the barrow?"

Aerenwen nodded and tucked the books into her satchel.

"Very well. I shall return to my research then. Good luck to you."

* * *

Aerenwen sat upon a wooden bench in a courtyard at the foot of the stairs leading up to Dragonsreach and pulled out the food Sigrid had packed her - some bread, cheese, dried beef, and a green apple as well as a small bottle of Nord mead. Aerenwen wasn't terribly fond of the thick liquid but supposed she should get used to it as it seemed to be the most prevalent drink in the province. Behind her stood a large, very old, and what appeared to be dead, tree, and she wondered at its significance. Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"We meet again." The beautiful warrior from earlier stood over her with that confident smirk on her face. "Give any thought to my offer?" She sat down beside Aerenwen and pulled her own apple out of her satchel, taking a bite.

"Not yet," the elf replied honestly. "I needed to report some news to the Jarl, and now I have an errand to run for him."

The woman seemed surprised at this. No doubt a stranger, an Altmer at that, who helped take down a giant in a simple blue dress with nothing more than an old iron shortsword, being on speaking terms with the hold's Jarl, was probably a shock.

"Running errands for the Jarl?" she commented. "After just arriving in Whiterun?"

Aerenwen chuckled dryly. "I was sort of thrust into a situation unexpectedly upon my arrival to Skyrim and needed to report what happened to the Jarl."

"Sounds like a story there."

Aerenwen nodded, taking a sip of the heavy mead. "Isn't there always a story when fate throws adventure your way?"

The other woman grinned at that. "Aye. You've a thirst for adventure then? You really must take me up on my suggestion to talk to Kodlak. We seem to have more members as of late who are in it for the coin rather than the honor and thrill."

"And you're in it for the honor and thrill, I assume?"

She nodded, her auburn hair falling in her face slightly. Aerenwen fought the urge to reach over and tuck it back behind the other woman's ear. "What is left if you haven't any honor?" she asked.

"Is that why you joined the Companions?"

"My mother was a Companion, and her mother before her," the woman replied. "All the women in my family dating back to Hrotti Blackblade served in the Companions. I was raised by my father in the woods of Falkreath Hold. We hunted every day, and it was the best training you could get. Unfortunately my mother did not live long enough to see me continue our family's legacy, but I know she looks down on me from Sovngarde with pride."

Aerenwen smiled, both surprised and touched that the beautiful stranger was willing to share that little personal piece of herself. "And what is it, exactly, that you Companions do?"

"Well, we sit on our haunches here in Whiterun a bit more than I would like," she replied with a chuckle, "but we are hired to solve problems for coin, so long as there is honor involved. We fight for Skyrim's people against the evils of the land, and it means waking up every day knowing it could be your last . . . having to earn your life by clawing your last breath from it. I don't know how those lords wake up every day and go about their boring lives. What's the point of life if you're not really living it?"

Aerenwen couldn't agree more and smiled in comradery with the other woman. She could see them getting along just fine. "I am Aerenwen," she stated, raising her hand to shake.

"Aela," the woman replied, meeting her in a firm handshake. Her skin was surprisingly soft considering her chosen lifepath. "They call me 'The Huntress'."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Aela the Huntress," Aerenwen replied with a soft smile.

"And you as well, Aerenwen. I hope to be able to fight alongside you again someday soon."

"Perhaps," Aerenwen replied. She wanted to retain an air of mystery though she had full intentions of looking into the Companions further after she'd completed her Dragonstone business. "For now, it's off to Riverwood and then Bleak Falls Barrow in the morning. May we meet again."

The warrior woman's thin eyebrows rose at the mention of the barrow, but she smiled and bid the elf farewell when she stood and continued further down the stone steps toward the gate that would take her out of the city.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when Aerenwen returned to Riverwood. She spent the rest of the afternoon chopping wood for Gerdur at the mill while Hamish and Dorthe played nearby with her son, Frodnar. Gerdur and her husband, Hod, were a kind couple, though they were very guarded and kept to themselves. Aerenwen needed some coin to pay Alvor. She needed armor, and though she was sure he'd allow her to fashion her own free of charge, she wanted to be able to compensate him for the materials she used. She had encountered Hod not long after returning to town, and when she had enquired to him as to whether or not he was aware of any paid work in the village, he told her he was always happy to pay anyone willing to put in a few hours of labor chopping wood.

Gerdur appeared beside her after some time with a flask of water to refresh her. Aerenwen thanked her and made small talk, asking about the village.

"My family were the first to settle the area," Gerdur replied. She was a pretty woman, if a bit plain, with shoulder-length blonde hair she wore braided back from her face. Her arms were thick with muscle from years of work heaving heavy logs, and she wore brown work gloves to protect her hands. "A lot of folk think I own the land, but I don't. It belongs to the Jarl of Whiterun. I just pay the taxes to live here and harvest the timber. What brings you to our humble village?"

"I just arrived in Skyrim," Aerenwen replied. "I was mistaken as a rebel and taken to Helgen with other prisoners. I escaped when the dragon attacked, and Alvor was kind enough to take me in when I found my way here. Now I'm making preparations to run an errand for the Jarl."

"A dragon really attacked Helgen?" Gerdur asked, shocked. "I had heard the rumors but didn't believe them to be true."

Aerenwen nodded, taking a long drink from the water flask.

"The rebels you were captured with, tell me, do you know if there was one by the name of Ralof?"

"Yes, actually, there was," she answered with surprise. "He was the only one I really spoke to. We were in a wagon together on the trip to Helgen, and he was quite kind to me."

"Is he . . . I mean, do you know if he made it?" Gerdur asked quietly.

Aerenwen frowned. She didn't know that he had, but she didn't know that he hadn't either. She wanted to put this woman at ease, and she obviously cared about Ralof in some way. "I don't know what happened to him after we went our separate ways," Aerenwen replied. "He escaped execution, like I did, thanks to the dragon, and the last I saw him, he was alive and well, making his way out of the village. Beyond that, I don't have answers for you."

Gerdur nodded. "Thank you for that, at least." She was quiet for a moment. "Ralof is my older brother," she explained. "It was him who was supposed to be running the family mill, but he chose a soldier's life instead. Our grandfather was arrested by the Thalmor for his Talos worship many years ago, so when Ulfric took up arms for the rebel cause, he joined. I worry about him dreadfully, but I keep quiet about it. It's hard knowing who favors what side in this war, and I have no desire to have bad blood with anyone over politics."

"Be proud of your brother," Aerenwen replied. "Whatever anyone thinks about the cause doesn't matter. He fights for what he believes is right, and there is honor in that. Ralof is a good man. He gave kindness to a strange Altmer woman, which is more than I can say for any other Stormcloak I encountered that day."

The woman smiled her thanks and returned to her work. Aerenwen watched her leave and sent up a prayer to the divines that Ralof was alive and his sister was given peace soon.

* * *

"Greetings, sister elf! It's nice to see a friendly face so far from home."

Aerenwen had just received her payment from Hod and was leaving the mill area when she encountered a Bosmer. She had little kindred to wood elves and wasn't certain why he was so welcoming. The Altmer and Bosmer had a strained history, and although their provinces were united under the Aldmeri Dominion, she'd heard the Thalmor were quite cruel in Valenwood, spurning a hatred amongst the natives toward Altmer in general. She greeted him with reserved friendliness, however, understanding that he was the only elf she had encountered in Riverwood, and it was probably good to see another mer in town.

"I'm Faendal. Staying in Riverwood long?" he asked.

"I'm not certain," Aerenwen replied, "though even if I end up settling elsewhere, I expect to visit often," she added, thinking of Hamish.

"It's a nice enough village, small and not a lot of culture," the man answered, "mostly Nords. I'm the only elf, and the Valerius siblings have Imperial blood, though their mother was a Nord. The folk are decent, though, even the Nords once they get to know you. Stay away from Sven, though."

"Who's Sven?" she asked.

"Works at the inn," the wood elf replied. "Calls himself a bard."

"What's your problem with him?"

"He's vying for the affections of Camilla Valerius, and she's mine," he spat. "Thinks he can woo her with his words, but I think she'll see right through it."

"Of course she will," Aerenwen retorted dryly. "Who ever fell for sweet words?"

Faendal frowned. "I don't have any time for your jokes right now. But, perhaps, you're right." He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "I wasn't certain I was going to use this, but I wrote this letter to Camilla and signed it from Sven. I think I caught that Nord's lack of eloquence quite well. Could you deliver the letter to her for me?"

Aerenwen accepted the letter but had no intentions of lying to the woman. The fact that Faendal had referred to her like a piece of property and intended to win her affections by lying to her were both things Aerenwen despised, and she had no intent to help him fool the poor girl.

Heading straight to Riverwood Trader, located across the street from Alvor's home and shop, she set out to find Camilla and set her straight on just what type of man Faendal the Bosmer seemed to be.

Upon entering the cluttered shop, Aerenwen interrupted the two siblings in an argument.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" she asked.

"No, no. Step right up to the counter!" the man replied. He looked very much the Imperial subject, and she never would have guessed he had Nord blood in him. Shorter, thin, with fine features, tanned skin, and dark hair. "No matter what you may have heard around town, Riverwood Trader is open for business."

Aerenwen was confused. "I haven't heard anything. Did something happen?"

"We were robbed by some bandits just a few nights ago," he replied with a nod. "Luckily, they left the store in tact. They seemed to be after just one thing, and when we handed it over, they spared our lives and left."

"What was it?"

"Oddly enough, it was a family heirloom," he explained. "A golden statuette in the form of a dragon's claw. I've no idea why they would've wanted it. Sure, it's worth a fare bit of coin, but to only take that and leave everything else," he waved absentmindedly at some of the pricier merchandise behind the counter, "it's a mystery to me. That's what we were arguing about when you arrived," he continued. "The claw has been in my mother's family for generations and has always been cherished. My sister, here, wants to go after the bandits to retrieve the claw. I told her we're lucky enough already that we didn't lose our lives and business to the thieves, and we shouldn't go pushing our luck."

"How could you follow them?" Aerenwen asked, turning toward the attractive woman sitting beside the roaring hearth. Like her brother, her hair and complexion were dark, and she had the petite form of an Imperial, but unlike him, her facial features were more rounded like that of a Nord.

"I overheard them talking about Bleak Falls Barrow," she replied. "It sounded like they were taking the claw there. I don't know why except maybe they set up their camp there. Being abandoned for so long, it's been known to be the hideout for a few bandits over the years."

"I'm actually headed up to the barrow myself on an errand for the Jarl," Aerenwen explained. "I can keep my eye out for this claw of yours while I'm there."

"Oh, thank you!" the woman exclaimed, jumping to her feet and catching the high elf woman off guard with a grateful hug. "If you can find it, it would mean so much to us!"

"Yes, thank you," her brother agreed. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lucan Valerius, proprietor of Riverwood Trader, and the woman hanging off you at the moment, is my younger sister, Camilla. We would be much obliged if you returned the claw to our family where it belongs, and I'll even offer up some coin to you for your effort."

"Camilla, you're actually the reason I came in," Aerenwen said as the woman finally released her from the hug. "I was speaking to Faendal over at the mill. He's quite bitter, and he asked me to give you this letter but wanted me to lie and claim that Sven wrote it. I wanted to tell you of his dishonesty."

Camilla took the letter and looked it over. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I can't believe Faendal would do this. I know he's jealous of my friendship with Sven, but I never imagined he would lie to me like this. He's obviously not the man I thought he was. First, you offer to retrieve the claw, and now, this. You're the heroin of the Valerius family, I suppose."

Aerenwen chuckled. "I don't know about that," she replied. "I'm no heroin. Simply an honest woman who believes in respecting a lady and enjoying an adventure when it presents itself."

* * *

Aerenwen's evening was spent crafting around Alvor's forge. The older man was impressed by the young elf's talent in smithing, and it wasn't long before she'd gained his trust, and he no longer felt the need to hover over her as she worked. She paid him for some tanned leather and iron and crafted herself a set of tempered hide armor that fit her perfectly. Alvor and Dorthe both helped, and when they were finished, she had matching boots, bracers, and helmet, and the sword and dagger she had picked up in Helgen were sharpened and improved to the best of all their ability.

That night Aerenwen lie awake in Dorthe's bed, listening to the quiet breathing of the slumbering children on the floor nearby, the soft snores of Sigrid, and the occasional, jarring snort that accompanied Alvor's snoring. The night before she'd been exhausted, so she had collapsed into sleep almost as soon as her head had hit the pillow; but not that night - that night she was filled with excitement at the adventure that awaited her the next morning, apprehension as to what the return of the dragon meant, and worry over what could have befallen her siblings.

She ended up distracting herself by reading one of the books she'd received from Farengar, _The Dragon War_ , by the light of the hearth. Not terribly informational but rather quite poetic in it's style, she could see why everything surrounding dragons had been believed to be a myth. She hoped this Dragonstone would be of some more substantial help to them.

 **Author's Note: Along with the main quest line, Aerenwen's story will also take her down the Companion's quest line since she is a warrior and has found herself in Whiterun. Personally, I've always had a crush on Aela the Huntress. You've got to admit, she's pretty damn hot for a video game character. My Aela will also have a soft and tender side, reserved for private moments, along with the fierce huntress persona she holds in the game.**


	5. Bleak Falls Barrow

**Disclaimer: Skyrim belongs to the Nords (and Bethesda).**

Chapter 5: Bleak Falls Barrow (Tirdas, 19th of Last Seed)

The sun was barely up when Aerenwen pulled on her armor and quietly left the house. She had no idea how long it would take to explore the barrow, so she didn't wish to wait and eat breakfast with the rest of the family when they had awoken.

She had barely crossed the bridge and headed up the mountain path that lead to the barrow when she felt eyes on her. She crouched behind some shrubbery and drew her sword, her amber-colored eyes taking in her surroundings.

"Your intincts are good," a familiar voice called out from the shadows. Aela the Huntress emerged from the forest on the other side of the path with that now familiar smirk gracing her beautiful face. She wore the same armor and war paint she had on the other occasions Aerenwen had seen her, and although the elf was surprised by the woman's appearance, it was not an unwelcome sight.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, emerging from her hiding spot and sheathing her sword.

"I told you I was eager to fight alongside you again," Aela answered simply, "and besides, exploring an ancient barrow seemed like an adventure I just couldn't pass up. Would you allow me to accompany you?"

"It would be an honor to have the assistance of one of the famed Companions on my journey," Aerenwen teased.

The Huntress laughed, and they walked in silence, side-by-side, up the mountain, simply enjoying the view of the majestic scenery as the sun rose and the peaceful sound of the wildlife. "There's an abandoned watchtower ahead," Aela eventually said, breaking the silence as they reached a high enough elevation that snow began to appear in their path. "It's often home to groups of bandits, so be alert."

Aerenwen nodded. The two women rounded a corner, the tower coming into view. They crept forward slowly and stealthily, sticking to the shadows when possible. Sure enough, two bandits sat around a fire outside the tower entrance. Almost immediately, they'd both been taken care of quietly by Aela with her bow.

"You're as good with that thing as my sister, Elain, is," Aerenwen commented with respect. "She's the hunter and stealth archer in the family. Nesta is a decent archer as well."

"The bow isn't a strength of yours?" Aela asked.

"Hardly," she replied with a dry laugh. "I'm much better at close contact."

"Perhaps I could give you some lessons," Aela offered in a flirty tone.

"Perhaps," Aerenwen replied with a wink.

They made their way inside the tower where Aerenwen took care of the final bandit with her sword through his gut. They looted the chests they found and took what weapons and jewelry they thought they could trade and then continued up the mountain.

The massive stone arches of Bleak Falls Barrow were even more impressive up close than they had been from a distance. Aerenwen wondered how such a place had been built into the stone by the ancients, but she didn't take much time to stop and admire the architecture. Of the six bandits stationed as lookouts outside the barrow, she dispatched two with her sword, and Aela took care of the other four from a distance with her incredible archery skills.

The stone doors were huge but surprisingly not too difficult to open, a hint at the fact that some of the bandits had made their way inside already. Sure enough, a small camp with a fire was set up in the entry hall of the barrow and two bandits ate their breakfast as they enjoyed the fire's warmth. Aela fired off two arrows, taking them both out with headshots, and the two women made their way through the room that was littered with skeever carcasses and rubble.

"Looks like they cooked us breakfast," Aela joked as she crouched down beside the fire and pulled off a piece of what looked like a roasted goat leg.

Aerenwen laughed and joined her new friend in finishing up the bandit's breakfast, weapons at their side and senses on alert in case they were joined by any other bandits.

"So what is it we are looking for here?" Aela asked.

"Well, two things actually," Aerenwen replied. "The Jarl hired me to find something called a Dragonstone for his court wizard. It's supposedly here in the barrow, most likely in the deepest of the burial chambers. The other is a family heirloom belonging to friends of mine. This group of bandits raided their home a few nights ago and stole their mother's golden dragon claw. I'm not sure of it's monetary value, but it means a lot to them as far as sentiments go."

"Okay, so some dragonstone and a dragon claw," Aela replied. "I'm sensing a theme. How did you come to be hired by the Jarl for this hazardous little errand?"

"Mostly on accident, really," Aerenwen answered. "A case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had only just arrived in Skyrim when I was caught in an Imperial ambush for some Stormcloak rebels. I could see they were soldiers and didn't want to get involved, so I attempted to sneak away the same way I had come, but I had been seen and someone hit me over the head. I was arrested and brought to Helgen to be executed along with the Stormcloaks. They didn't seem too concerned that I wasn't on their list of fugitives and were all set to execute me anyway."

Aerenwen paused for affect for a moment. She knew warriors. She'd grown up around them, and the only thing warriors enjoyed as much as their own adventures were well told tales of the adventures of others. "I was knelt over the chopping block, headsman ready, when from out of the sky a dragon appeared. It ransacked the city, destroying everything and everyone in its path. I escaped with the help of a rebel named Ralof and then an Imperial soldier named Hadvar. Hadvar and I rescued a small boy, called Hamish, whose parents had been killed. We found our way out of the town through an underground cavern located beneath the keep, battling Stormcloaks along the way who didn't seem to care that we were all fleeing from the same danger and were only focused on their hatred for anything representing the Empire. Hadvar's uncle, Alvor, in Riverwood, took Hamish and me in. They're caring for him until I have the means to do so. I'm not sure why, but I feel the need to make sure the boy is safe and looked after.

"I traveled to Whiterun to warn the Jarl of the dragon attack as the last time it was seen, it was flying right over this barrow. While having an audience with him, I learned of his court wizard's research into dragons, and the Jarl felt, understandably, anything regarding dragons should take top priority now that one is alive and well and wreaking havoc on Skyrim. They needed someone to fetch this dragonstone to see what they could learn from it, and I offered my services."

"That is quite the tale," Aela stated after taking a moment to process it all. "It was really a dragon that destroyed Helgen?"

Aerenwen nodded.

"I'd heard the rumors, but I didn't believe . . ." the woman seemed in awe of the fact.

"It is rather unbelievable, but I saw it with my own eyes."

"May I ask, what brought you to Skyrim to begin with?" Aela pressed on.

Aerenwen decided this woman was trustworthy enough to tell the truth. After all, she stood for honor, and there was no honor in betraying someone to the Thalmor, especially to a Nord like Aela. "My siblings and I fled Aldmeris as fugitives from the Thalmor," the elf replied simply but left it at that.

"I suppose I'll hear more of that story eventually," Aela wondered with a grin.

Aerenwen shrugged. "Another day. That's enough storytelling for today. There's a barrow to explore."

* * *

They had made it quite deep into the barrow before encountering any other thieves. Dead draugr and skeevers were scattered here and there. A thief came into view through an archway, and Aela readied her bow just as he pulled a lever on the floor beside him. She never fired though, as the bandit fell when poisoned darts flew out from the walls around him.

"A trap," Aerenwen commented.

The two women slowly made their way into the room where the bandit had died.

"It's an ancient Nord puzzle gate," Aela explained. "I've seen them before. The solution to the puzzle lies in turning the pillars so the right symbol faces the front. Only then will the gate open when the lever is pulled. Otherwise, it will be a deadly trap, as that bandit discovered."

They looked around the room and turned a few pillars. There was an eagle and a snake carved into the wall above the gate, leading them to believe the last two pillars should match. The first piece of stonework had fallen from the wall, however. They found it buried beneath some rubble, and the shape of an eagle could be vaguely discerned from it. Aerenwen turned the first pillar to show the eagle, and they both approached the lever.

"You or me?" Aerenwen asked.

"We do it together," Aela replied, taking the taller woman's hand in her hers and placing them both on the lever. "If we're wrong in this, we fall together."

Aerenwen nodded, took a breath, and they pulled . . . .

The iron gate opened in front of them.

More skeevers and a few frostbite spiders were the only things they encountered for some time after that. More dead draugr lead them to believe at least one of the bandits had made it passed the puzzle as well.

The walls of the passageways slowly became more cobweb covered.

"Help! Someone! Anyone!" a voice called from the distance. "I'm sorry I ran off with the claw! You can have it. Just get me out of here!"

Aela and Aerenwen exchanged a glance when they heard claw.

"Sounds like one of the thieves wanted that claw for himself," Aela whispered.

Aerenwen nodded. "And, my guess is, he's found himself in a sticky mess."

Sure enough, cutting through webs, they found the man, wrapped in spider silk and hanging from a wall.

"Who are you?" he asked. "No, never mind. It doesn't matter. Cut me down!"

"You have the claw?" Aerenwen asked, her dagger in hand.

The thief nodded.

"I'll cut you down if you hand it over."

"Fine, fine. Just get me . . . oh no! It's too late. She's back!"

A giant frostbite spider, the size of five or six of the ones they had encountered previously all put together, slowly lowered itself down from a hole in the ceiling by a strand of its silk. It landed and immediately headed toward its captive, stopping and hissing when it noticed the two newcomers.

"Oh isn't she pretty," Aela commented, firing off a few arrows into the spiders side. "Aerenwen, get out of there!"

Knowing she didn't have time to draw her sword before the spider reached her with its venomous fangs, she dove forward, rolling onto her back and, as she slid beneath the beast, drove her dagger into the soft spot just between its head and thorax. It shrieked in pain and collapsed on top of her.

Aela quickly pushed the overgrown spider off her friend and offered her a hand to help her to her feet.

"Oh! You killed it. Thank you!" the thief called out. "Now please. Let me down. The claw is yours if you'll just cut me down."

The two women worked together to cut the thick, sticky silk from the thief's body. He stood up, brushing himself off, and then laughed. "You'll never catch me! The claw is mine!" the dark elf cried as he took off running down the next corridor.

"Son of a . . ." Aela muttered.

They ran after him only to find his corpse at the feet of a woken draugr. The skilled women took care of her and her friend both rather easily, and Aerenwen crouched down to search the thief's body while Aela explored the chamber they were in.

"Here's the claw," Aerenwen announced, finding it in a satchel the thief carried.

"Dreadfully gaudy thing, isn't it?" Aela commented, looking across the room from her current position where she was rifling through items scattered around an old altar.

"Heavy, too," the elf stated, adjusting her own satchel under the claw's awkward weight. She found a book on the thief and, realizing it was his personal journal, thumbed through it. "According to this guy's journal, this claw is some sort of a key. Sounds like there's a door deep in the barrow that hasn't been opened for years, and this claw is the way through it."

"Huh, I've heard of dragon puzzle doors," Aela replied, "but it didn't occur to me your friends' claw might be some sort of a key."

"This thief seemed to think there was a great treasure hidden behind it," Aerenwen finished, closing the book and tucking it back into the dead man's arms.

"I guess there's only one way to find out," the other woman stated, and they continued their way further into the barrow.

Numerous draugr and a few skeevers lay dead before the two women reached the puzzle door they needed the claw to open. The door was massive and made of stone, with three rotating panels and a golden center where the claw obviously fit. They used the animals engraved on the back of the claw as a model to set up the images on the rotating panels, then Aerenwen inserted the claw and turned.

A great groaning sounded from the door and dust flew out, causing the women to cough and shield their eyes as the door slowly slid down into the floor. Beyond the door was a great cavern. On the walls grew a strange sort of glowing mushroom, and though they interested Aerenwen little, she was sure at least two of her sisters would be intrigued by them and whatever magical properties they may possess.

A stream flowed through the massive cavern, and the path lead them over a small stone bridge. Ahead of them stood a rounded stone wall. The top bore a carving in the image of a dragon and the bottom was carved in an unfamiliar language. As they neared it, Aerenwen could hear chanting, and the room seemed to lighten.

"Do you hear that?" she asked her companion.

"Hear what?" Aela asked.

The chanting seemed to be coming from the wall, and Aerenwen stepped forward, placing her hand over one of the oddly written words that seemed to glow. Suddenly, she was overcome with the sound of chanting echoing in her ears and blinded by a white light eminating from the wall.

 _Fus._

She had no idea what it meant, but somehow, she knew that was what the glowing word had said.

To Aela, though she couldn't hear the chanting, when Aerenwen touched the wall, a gust of wind rose up and circled the captivating Altmer woman like a cyclone, light and dust swirling around her. "What the hell just happened?" she asked when the phenomenon had stopped, and her friend seemed to have returned to her senses.

Before Aerenwen could answer, however, that she had absolutely no clue what had just happened to her, the sound of stone cracking and sliding echoed through the cavern.

The lid of the stone tomb behind them slid off, and a powerful draugr warlord rose up, battleaxe in hand. He was a more formidable opponent than the others they had faced, but after a small battle, he fell to the ground, decapitated by Aerenwen's blade and his back littered with Aela's steel arrows.

"I'm guessing this is the dragonstone," Aela stated, holding up a heavy carved piece of stone about the size of an opened book. It had been resting in the stone coffin with the draugr rather than in the guilded chest Aerenwen was currently rifling through.

"Alright. I guess we're done here then," Aerenen decided, standing up. "I suspect that thief would've been mighty disappointed if he had made it this far. There were a few jewels and some enchanted weapons in the chest, but nothing like the treasure of legend he wrote of in his journal."

Aela chuckled. "He was saved from the heartbreak then." She glanced around and noticed a set of stone stairs that wound up and behind the dragon wall. "There's usually back ways out of these chambers, not accesible from the outside but a way out in case any of the workmen or priests were accidentally sealed into the tomb. Let's try those stairs."

Aerenwen followed her, and as they approached the top of the stairs, and Aela pulled a lever that opened a secret panel in the stone wall, she glanced back over the burial chamber they had just plundered. "Who do you think he was?"

"Some ancient chieftain, I'd guess," was Aela's reply. "Forgotten by history or remembered but not associated with this place. Either way, we've put him to his rest. His place should be in Sovngarde, not guarding some old empty tomb or serving long-dead dragonpriests."

Aerenwen agreed and followed her friend through the tunnel they had revealed.


	6. Dragonborn?

Chapter Six: Dragonborn? (Middas, 20th of Last Seed)

It was after midnight when the two warrior women returned to Riverwood. Not wanting to awaken the family, Aerenwen entered The Sleeping Giant Inn for the first time. It was a bustling place, even for such a late hour. The patrons obviously recognized Aela as a member of the Companions and many raised their glasses to her and her honor.

Aerenwen was exhausted. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and now that her adrenaline was slowing after the adventures of the day had ceased, her fatigue was catching up with her. More than once, Aela, who amazingly didn't seem at all tired, had caught her as she stumbled while they made their way through the dark forest from the mountainside they had emerged on, until she had finally decided to put her arm through the other woman's and supported her weight for the rest of their journey.

The tired elf sat heavily in one of the large chairs beside the burning fire, and Aela made her way to the counter nearby where a hulking Nord man with short cropped light brown hair stood.

"Welcome to the Sleeping Giant," he drawled in a deep, slow voice. "What can I get you?"

"I'd like to rent a room, please," the huntress told him, pulling some coins from her pouch.

"Sorry, the innkeeper's away," he replied. "Inn's closed. Kitchen's open."

"So, there's no where to rest for the night?" Aela asked, appalled. Whoever heard of an inn not renting rooms? She was concerned for Aerenwen. Although she knew the elf was just tired, she wasn't accustomed to the cold temperatures they had been in all day, and tiredness led to a weakened immune system.

"You're welcome to put your head down on one of the tables for as long as you like," the man answered with a shrug. "No one will bother you."

"Thanks," Aela replied, though she didn't mean it, and her tone made that point quite clear. She returned to Aerenwen who was laughing and conversing with the town drunk (didn't all town's have one?).

Aerenwen decided to make introductions. "Aela, meet Embry. Embry, this is Aela."

Aela nodded at the man who did the same in return and also stated, "It's an honor, Huntress." Even in his inebriation this Nord gave respect where it was owed.

"There's no rooms open, Aerenwen," Aela stated, reaching her hand beneath Aerenwen's arm and helping her to her feet. She led her to a quiet corner in the room and instructed her friend to put her head down on the table. "Rest. I'll make sure no one disturbs you."

"What about you?" Aerenwen asked with concern.

"I'm fine. I don't sleep much," Aela replied, and thankfully the elf was too tired to delve any deeper. She sat down beside her but leaned against the table, facing out into the room, her ever-vigilant eye on the patrons. It wasn't long before the other woman's breath steadied with sleep, and Aela smiled slightly to herself when Aerenwen's thin yet muscular body leaned into her own.

* * *

The next morning found Aela and Aerenwen entering the Riverwood Trader shortly after their door had unlocked for business. Aerenwen had told her friend she was free to return to Whiterun, but the warrior found herself reluctant to leave the elf's side.

"Oh! You're back! I was so worried we had sent you to your death!" Camilla cried, wrapping her arms around the Altmer again.

Aerenwen laughed and shrugged the woman off. Though nothing was meant in the act more than friendship and appreciation, she felt awkward touching another woman in Aela's presence. "Nope. No death for me yet. I'm back, no worse for wear." She pulled the claw out of her satchel. "And here's your claw."

Camilla squealed and took the claw gratefully, placing it on the shelf where it had always sat.

"I can't tell you how much we appreciate this," her brother stated. He passed her a bag of coins, and although Aerenwen tried to refuse it, he insisted. "That silly little trinket means a lot to us, especially my sister. This is nothing compared to what you've returned to my family. I still can't imagine what the thieves wanted with this specifically."

"It's a key," Aerenwen replied, glad she could not only return the item but also provide the family with their lost information on it. "It opened a puzzle door deep within the barrow. We had to match the animal symbols on the door with the ones engraved on the back of the claw, then insert the claw, and the door opened, revealing the deepest burial chamber in the barrow. I imagine an ancestor of yours was tasked with guarding the key to keep pillagers from looting the tomb. These bandits were under the assumption there was great treasure in the chamber, but there truly wasn't much."

"Fascinating!" Lucan exclaimed. "Amazing how the piece stayed with our family for generations, but its purpose was lost to us. Now we not only have our heirloom back but also an interesting story to share when people ask about it. Thank you, friend."

* * *

The journey to Whiterun was full of stories, casual conversation, and joking between the friends. They had an easy nature together and got along seemlessly. Aerenwen found the warrior woman, who was usually quite somber and serious from what she could tell, actually had an amazing sense of humor and a beautiful smile. As much as she liked the other woman's smirk, she adored the real smile and found herself eager to bring about its appearance as often as possible.

There was one slightly awkward moment, beneath the dead tree in Whiterun, when a simple goodbye didn't seem like enough to either woman, despite the brief time in which they'd known each other. Both seemed reluctant to go their separate ways, a feeling that was entirely foreign to both women who prided themselves on their independence, and they looked over their shoulders and met eyes frequently as they each ascended the steps that would bring them to their destination - Aela to Jorrvaskr and Aerenwen to Dragonsreach.

The wizard was eager to receive the Dragonstone which did turn out to be a map of ancient dragon burial sites, just as he had thought. He fussed over it with his mysterious associate, a woman dressed in armor and wearing a thick cloak, the hood of which hid much of her face. Aerenwen stood, half-listening to their discussion, half-daydreaming about Aela, as she waited for the Jarl's appearance.

"Farengar, the Jarl demands your presence at once," Irileth announced as she rushed into the room. "A dragon is attacking the western watchtower."

"A dragon!" the wizard gasped and quickly ran from the room.

"You'd better come, too," Irileth told Aerenwen, and she followed the Dunmer woman up the stairs the wizard had just hurried up.

Jarl Balgruuf stood in his war room, having just arrived, and an anxious Whiterun guard stood nearby.

"Go ahead," Irileth instructed the guard. "Tell the Jarl everything you told me."

"The dragon came from the mountains," the guard began. "It was still circling overhead when I left."

"Did it attack?" the Jarl asked.

"I don't know, sir," the guard replied. "I rushed back here to tell you as soon as we saw it and never looked back. I've never run so fast in my life."

"Good work, lad," the Jarl replied with a pat to the young man's shoulder. "You've done your hold proud today. Retire to the barracks for some food and rest. We'll take it from here." He turned to the Dunmer. "Irileth, take a battalion with you to the western watchtower at once. Look for survivors. Piece together what happened."

"Yes, sir."

"You've already done us a great service and risked your life retrieving the Dragonstone," the Jarl said as he focused on Aerenwen. "I hate to ask for your service again, but I find I must. You're the only one amongst us who has faced a dragon and lived to tell about it. Your experience may prove valuable if it's still there."

Aerenwen nodded. "It's an honor to be of service, sir."

"Our gratitude cannot be expressed with mere words," he replied. "Return here with your report when you've explored the tower, and we shall discuss what I can do for you in return for your selfless service."

* * *

Aela had seen Aerenwen running alongside the Jarl's housecarl, helmet on, ready for battle, down the steps of Whiterun. Then she heard the guard's excited gossip - a dragon was attacking the hold, and the Jarl had sent out his own housecarl and his new personal champion to deal with it. She readied herself to leave as well but was stopped with a hand on her arm.

"This isn't your fight," a deep voice said from behind her.

"Maybe not, Farkas, but what kind of warrior would I be if I heard there was a dragon posing a threat nearby, and I did not rush to take it on?", she replied, her confident smirk in place. "Besides, she helped us take down that giant. Why not offer our aide in return?"

The large Nord laughed, his massive muscular shoulders and chest shaking slightly beneath his steel and fur armor. "You've got me there, Aela. Let's go then, Shield-Sister. Let's help this mysterious elf of yours bring down a dragon."

* * *

The watchtower seemed abandoned when they arrived, but the dragon had obviously been there. Grass smoldered, and a shack across the road was engulfed in flames. The three remaining guards were found inside the tower.

"Be careful!" one cried as they entered. "It's still here somewhere."

"What happened?" Irileth asked.

"It came down from the mountains, circled overhead a few times," the guard explained. "We sent Gareth back to bring word to the Jarl, and we readied ourselves, but we're no match for it. It ate Ranir and Matis in one bite!"

"Here it comes!" the other guard called.

Aerenwen rushed out, followed by Irileth. The guards fired arrows at the dragon, but Aerenwen knew they wouldn't be any good. Something as small as an arrow would be nothing but an annoyance to a great beast like a dragon whose scales were most likely so thick the arrowheads barely pierced.

The dragon landed on the ground, snapping it's jaws at one of the guards who continued firing arrow after arrow, uselessly, at the beast. Aerenwen saw her chance. She pulled her sword and ran straight at the dragon.

"What is she doing?" Aela wondered to herself as she watched from a distance. She and Farkas had arrived just as the dragon had returned, and she'd been firing arrows at it along with the guards.

"Killing a dragon, I'd guess," Farkas replied in his simple manner. "Let's go!"

She laughed and ran after him.

Aerenwen ran directly at the head of the dragon. A plume of flames came from its mouth, but she barely felt the heat as it lapped her skin. She'd noticed her few burns from Helgen had healed remarkably fast, and she hoped it would be the same case for these. When she reached its head, she brought her sword down on top of it's nose, causing it to close its massive jaws, and she then leaped upward, landing atop the dragon's head. She steadied herself, balancing on two feet as the dragon roared with anger and attempted to knock her off. She brought her sword down in the soft spot at the base of it's skull, driving it deep into its brain, just as Farkas was driving his own long sword through the dragon's belly.

The dragon fell, crying out one last time. _Dovahkiin, no!_

Aerenwen had no idea what those words meant, but somehow she knew he was referring to her. She jumped off the carcass and sheathed her sword, turning to Aela who was suddenly at her side. Before she could say anything, a wind came up and circled Aerenwen, originating with the dead dragon and swirling in colors of yellows and reds as it engulfed the High Elf.

 _Fus_. It meant 'force'. How she knew that, she had no clue, but it was as if she had absorbed some sort of knowledge from the dragon she'd just killed.

"What just happened?" she muttered, steadying herself against the hand that had just gripped her arm. She opened her eyes to realize that Aela was holding her up.

"It was almost like what happened in the barrow," Aela commented quietly with concern.

"It can't be!" one of the guards exclaimed, running toward Aerenwen. "Dragonborn!"

Aela's eyes widened, and she studied Aerenwen with an odd look upon her face.

"Dragonborn? What's that?" the elf asked.

"Ancient Nord tales tell of men born with the dragon blood. They have the ability to absorb a dragon's soul upon its death and have a natural ability to use the voice," Aela explained.

"That's what you just did, wasn't it?" a guard asked excitedly. "Absorbed its soul?"

Aerenwen shook her head. "I have no idea what happened."

"There's only one way to know," another guard offered. "Try it. Shout."

Aerenwen looked to Aela in confusion. "Shout?"

"That's what they call the ability for men to speak in the dragon tongue," Aela told her. "It can be learned by training and following the way of the voice, but only a Dragonborn has the ability to shout naturally with no training."

"What do I even say?" she asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Aela laughed. "What feels right?" she asked.

"Fus," Aerenwen whispered.

Aela cocked her head in question.

"The word from the dragon wall in the barrow," Aerenwen replied. "I don't know how, but when that odd thing happened, I was able to read one of the words."

"Alright, fus then," Aela agreed with a nod. "Go for it."

Aerenwen took a deep breath and focused inward. She had no idea how to shout, but by focusing on the word, she could feel an energy building deep within her. She opened her mouth, but the voice that came out was barely hers - deep, echoing - it shook the ground around them and caused several of the guards standing nearby to stumble.

Many of the Nord guards cheered.

"That's it! That's shouting!" one of them said to her. "You're it. You're dragonborn."

"This is a miracle," another stated. "You're dragonborn. Just like Talos himself."

Irileth had stood silently nearby, listening to the guards yammer on, but she broke her silence. "I know little about such things," she said seriously. "Just an old Nord myth as far as I'm concerned."

Another guard scoffed. "That's just because you ain't a Nord."

"Perhaps," the Dunmer replied. "But what I do know is that at least now we know they can be killed, and I truly am glad you're on our side." She smiled at Aerenwen, and the high elf knew just what a rare honor it was to receive such a gesture from the dark elf. "I'm going to clean up here, make sure there aren't any others that follow it," she said. "Return to Whiterun and report to the Jarl. I'm sure he's anxious to know what went on here. Perhaps he can give you some more information on this dragonborn nonsense as well."

* * *

"Farkas, this is Aerenwen," Aela introduced as the three made their way back up the stone road toward Whiterun. Aela stood between her two friends. Though there were other members of the Companions she felt a kinship to, Farkas was generally the only one she conversed with on a personal level. He had become like a protective big brother to her, and he was the only one that knew when she had left a few days before it was to help the elf who had come to their aide slaying the giant. She hadn't said anything to him about the deeper feelings she was developing toward the other woman, but she was certain he had noticed. Though not book smart by any means, Farkas was incredibly perceptive, and he knew Aela didn't seek the companionship of just anyone. "Aerenwen, my shield-brother, Farkas."

"I remember you from the day with the giant," Aerenwen commented. "It's good to officially meet you."

"You, too," the large man replied in his deep baritone. "Any friend of Aela's is a friend of mine."

"Friends?" Aerenwen asked with a smirk directed at the auburn-haired Nord. "Is that what we are?"

"For now," Aela replied with her own smirk and, though it was hard to tell beneath her war paint, possibly a blush.

"To this one, the title of friend is hard earned," Farkas told her. "It's a badge to wear with honor. She doesn't let people in easily."

Aela playfully smacked the man on his arm.

Aerenwen was both surprised and not surprised by this revelation. She'd read Aela as a guarded person and had seen it in her interactions with other people. She didn't understand why she was different. Why the huntress felt so comfortable with her so quickly. She studied the woman walking beside her who was now joking with Farkas about something. She decided she wouldn't question it. The connection she felt to Aela, the attraction she had for her, wasn't anything she had ever experienced before. She was both excited and nervous to see where it could lead.

 **Author's Note: I love Farkas. In the game, he's just a big, dumb oaf . . . but something about him tells me he could be a big softy with a great sense of humor.**


	7. Honor to You, My Thane

Chapter Seven: Honor to You, My Thane (Loredas, 23rd of Last Seed; Middas, 27th of Last Seed)

Aerenwen sat at the edge of the White River, her feet submerged as the rushing water cooled them on the warm summer afternoon. Hamish played with the village children nearby, and she was lost in thought.

The events of the last few weeks were almost too much to process. Their prison-break and hasty escape from Auridon and her parents probable death, her capture, her almost-execution, surviving a dragon attack, her feelings for Aela, killing a dragon . . . and now this Dragonborn mystery.

Just before they had arrived in Whiterun after killing the dragon, a great chorus of deep voices had echoed through the air and caused the ground to tremble. The Nords knew it was the Graybeards, and when they found out what had transpired after she killed the dragon, they felt they were calling for her, the Dragonborn.

Jarl Balgruuf had recommended she visit the group of monks atop the Throat of the World to answer their summons. She felt she probably would, eventually. They seemed to be the only ones with the answers she needed, but first she had business to take care of. The Jarl had granted her the title of Thane of Whiterun. An honorary title, mostly, but with it came the gift of a residence within the city.

The small abandoned cottage of Breezehome had sat empty since its previous owner's demise, and it now belonged to Aerenwen. She had spent the last few days in Riverwood, spending time with Hamish and working for Hod and Alvor to earn the coin needed to furnish her new residence. She would return to Whiterun the following day to make arrangements, and hopefully, she and Hamish would be happily residing in their new home in just a few days time. Then the next thing on her agenda was to visit the Companions' hall. Though being a warrior probably wasn't the most stable job for someone in charge of a child, it was a steady, and profitable, income, and it was really all she was trained to do. Chopping wood wouldn't put food on the table, and there were already two established blacksmiths in Whiterun. And besides, spending more time with Aela wouldn't be a hardship.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Aerenwen asked Hamish as he came running down the stairs of their new home.

"I get my own room!" the boy shrieked excitedly.

"I think that means he likes it," Sigrid commented with a laugh.

"Thank you for coming," Aerenwen said to her friend. "I know Hamish appreciates you seeing his new home, but I know you were worried about the travel."

"How could I refuse when you provided a wagon and members of the Companions as my own personal guard?" she joked.

In fact, it had been Aela that had made the travel arrangements. On her return to Whiterun to make sure the house was up to par, Aerenwen had showed the home to her friend and expressed her sadness that Sigrid didn't dare to make the short trip because of the threat of bandits on the road. That morning, as Aerenwen and Hamish readied to leave, Aela and Farkas arrived in Riverwood with a hired carriage prepared to take Sigrid to Whiterun with them and return her later that day.

Before leaving Riverwood that morning, Gerdur had approached her. "I just wanted to let you know, Ralof survived Helgen. He didn't dare to risk being spotted in Riverwood, but he sent a letter via currier. I received it yesterday. He's well and headed back to Windhelm."

Aerenwen had thanked her for sharing the information and felt better knowing that Ralof, Stormcloak or not, was still alive. He had showed her kindness. Although he and Hadvar were on opposite sides of the civil war, they were both good men, and Aerenwen thanked the divines for the help they had both given her.

"It's a nice home, Aerenwen," Sigrid commented, glancing around at the humble decor.

The main floor of the home was mostly one large open room. A firepit near the front of the room with a cooking spit, a large table and some cupboards toward the back. Beneath the stairs was a small bedroom for Aerenwen's personal housecarl, a sort of bodyguard that came with the title.

Lydia was a nice young woman. Loyal and quiet, and though she was a skilled warrior, she seemed pleased to be tasked with guarding the home and looking after Hamish when Aerenwen was away. She'd been an orphan and gone into guardsman training due to a lack of options, and this was the closest to a stable home life she had ever hoped to have.

Upstairs were two additional bedrooms - a large one for Aerenwen with a comfortable double bed, and a smaller one for Hamish.

"Safe here within the city walls," Sigrid added, her voice sounding distant.

"Sigrid, if anything ever happens in Riverwood," Aerenwen said, taking her friend's hands in a comforting gesture, "know you and your family are always welcome here in my home."

"Thank you," the smaller woman smiled, blinking away tears. "We're so vulnerable out there, and I worry about the war, and now the dragons. It's good to know if something were to happen, we have a safe place to stay inside the capital."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies," Farkas said as he stepped through the front door, "but we should head out if you wish to be home before nightfall."

Aerenwen stood in the doorway of her new home watching as Sigrid and Farkas walked down the road to the gate with Dorthe running along ahead of them.

"Septim for your thoughts?" Aela asked, appearing beside her as she often did.

"I'm happy," Aerenwen replied. "There's room to grow, of course. I still need to speak with Kodlak, visit the Graybeards, and start looking for my family, but I have a home. A nice home. And friends." She looked at Aela with a smirk. "For now."

Aela chuckled and bumped the taller woman with her hip, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

"When I fled for Skyrim, I had no idea where I was going or what the future held for me," Aerenwen continued. "This life I'm making here in Whiterun - it's more than I ever could have imagined. I hope my sisters and brother are faring as well."

"I'm sure they're fine, Ren," Aela responded, using the pet name she'd taken to often calling her. "We'll find them. You're not alone anymore." She nudged the other woman with her shoulder. "Come on. Let's head over to the Bannered Mare. We can't miss out on the celebrations completely."

Aerenwen chuckled, smiling to herself as she remembered the debauchery and drunkenness that usually accompanied the celebration of Harvest's End back in her home. She imagined that the Nords, being heavier drinkers as a rule, celebrated the end of their hard work even more fervently.

 **Author's Note: This was a short one . . . more of a filler chapter getting Aerenwen settled into Whiterun before we move onto other parts of the story line. One more chapter before the end of part one in this book. As I have been writing, I have separated the stories into parts based upon the months of the year then moved on to another story to explore that month through the eyes of one of Aerenwen's siblings. That's how I will be posting as well.**


	8. The Welp

Chapter Eight: The Welp (Turdas, 28th of Last Seed)

Jorrvaskr stood atop one of the hills below Dragonsreach and was reachable by a set of stone stairs from the courtyard with the dead tree. The building itself looked like an overturned ship, and according to legend, Ysgramor and his five hundred companions had carried the ship all the way from the coast, stopping at the mountain that is now Whiterun because of the magical forge that was already there. They built their mead hall, and the settlement slowly grew up around it.

Inside the hall, Aerenwen found a warm, jovial atmosphere. A great fire burned in the center of the room, tables and chairs arranged in a sort of horseshoe pattern around it. The edges of the room were raised around the edge a few steps with a railing at the edge. Several people sat at the tables or in chairs around the room. Almost immediately, Aerenwen's eyes found Aela, as if she was a compass, and the other woman was her true north.

The warrior woman looked up from where she sat with Farkas and another man and grinned broadly when she made eye contact with Aerenwen. She'd been waiting with baited breath, knowing her friend would be visiting Jorrvaskr to meet with Kodlak soon, though she hadn't expected it to be on the morning of her second day in Whiterun.

There was a scuffle happening on the opposite end of the hall between two Companions, a Nord woman and a Dunmer man.

"Don't mind them," Aela said as she appeared beside Aerenwen yet again. "Njada is hotheaded, and Athis is always ready for a scuffle. Honestly, Ysgramor himself wouldn't have the patience to deal with the rabble around here."

"Little Ren, you made it!" Farkas called out, raising his flagon of mead from his seat across the hall.

This, of course, drew the attention of many others in the hall, and Aerenwen felt eyes on her as she gave a friendly wave to her oversized friend. The lesser known Companions were obviously quite curious about this newcomer who already seemed to be well acquainted with two members of the Circle. Aerenwen wondered if that meant they would be harder on her, viewing her joining as nepotism.

"Kodlak is downstairs in the living quarters," Aela told her quietly. She pointed out the stairs. "Follow the hall all the way to end, and you'll find him."

Aerenwen thanked her and followed her directions.

The companion's living quarters were much like the upstairs in atmosphere but with no windows. Surprisingly, the ceilings and walls still had the rounded appearance of the boat hull the main hall had.

Kodlak Whitemane looked much like the other Nord warriors Aerenwen had encountered during her time in Skyrim except his hair and beard were white as snow. Like the other senior members of the Companions, his armor was an eclectic mix of steel, fur, and hide, and although his age was advanced, he appeared to be just as fit as Farkas.

"A stranger enters our hall," the old man said when he noticed Aerenwen approaching. His eyes were gray, though one was darker than the other, and seemed to radiate wisdom.

"Forgive me for interrupting," Aerenwen stated, glancing between him and the other large Nord who sat at the small table. This man was obviously one of the senior members as well, judging by his armor, one of the Circle as they were called. "I wish to join the Companions."

"You do, do you?" the old man commented with a smile. "Let me have a look at you." He studied Aerenwen, and though he took in her entire form, he focused most on her eyes, seemingly reading her. Aela had said the old man had a way of knowing people, of knowing their heart. "Hm. Yes. Perhaps," he finally stated. "I see a certain strength of spirit in you."

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting her?" the other man interrupted in surprise. He glanced apprehensively at Aerenwen, and she wondered if all newcomers received such a cool welcome from him or if it was because she was an Altmer.

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas," Kodlak replied, "and last I knew, Jorrvaskr had some empty beds available for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

"Forgive me," Vilkas answered in an apologetic tone, "but perhaps, with all that is going on, this isn't the time to welcome new blood in our midst. Besides, I've never heard of this stranger."

"Sometimes the famous come to us," Kodlak said sagely. "Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. Although, if I am not mistaken, while you may not have heard of this stranger, your brother and the Huntress have become quite well acquainted with her as of late. You are the one they believe to be Dragonborn, aren't you?"

Aerenwen simply nodded and hoped she didn't look too smug at the gobsmacked look on the haughty Vilkas' face.

"It doesn't matter where they come from to reach Jorrvaskr," Kodlak continued. "What matters most is their heart."

"And their arm," Vilkas shot out.

"Yes, how are you in battle, girl?" Kodlak wanted to know.

"I can handle myself," Aerenwen replied. "Though I'm sure there's still much I could learn."

"That's the spirit. This is Vilkas. He will test your arm and get you started on that learning. Vilkas, take the girl to the training yard and have her take a few swings at you."

"Yes, Kodlak."

Aerenwen followed the tall Nord back up the hall and stairwell into the great hall then through a set of doors opposite from the ones she had originally entered. They stood now on a large, covered porch, and the cobbled area around it held many combat training tools. Vilkas, who was apparently Farkas' twin brother (though Aerenwen was having a hard time resolving his stoic and cold demeanor with the jovial and warm one of his brother), stopped and drew his sword, a beautiful steel specimen, longer than Aerenwen's but not a longsword by any means.

"The old man said to have a look at you, so let's do this," Vilkas instructed. "Just take a few swings at me, so I can see your form. Don't worry, I can take it."

Aerenwen did as instructed, pulling her sword and giving him her best few swings. He blocked them but looked impressed.

"Not bad at all," he told her as they sheathed their swords. "You've got a lot more force in that swing than I expected, and your form is decent. You might just make it. But, for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood, so you do as you're told. Take my sword up to Eorlund at the Skyforge for sharpening." He passed the sword to Aerenwen who was surprised by its weight. She'd expected it to be heavier. "Be careful. It's probably worth more than you are."

As she turned to leave, she noticed Aela and Farkas, as well as a few other people, up on the porch. Aela leaned against one of the supporting columns, her arms crossed over her chest. To anyone else, she looked nonchalant, but Aerenwen could see the pride in her eyes. Farkas, however, left no doubt to anyone about his thoughts on her performance, grinning widely and hooting and hollering his approval. Aela winked at her and nodded in the direction of the Skyforge.

* * *

The Skyforge stood atop a set of stone steps carved into a rocky outcropping. A giant stone eagle with outspread wings stood guard over it.

Eorlund Gray-Mane was as massive and old as Kodlak and also appeared just as fit. He was armored, but his chest was bare, and despite the difference in the elasticity of an older man's skin, his physique could have belonged to any young warrior.

Aerenwen had heard of the Skyforge, even back in Auridon. The legendary forge had already existed in Skyrim when the first elves had arrived. They were fearful of it, believing it was a relic of the old gods and choosing to stay away from it rather than use it to their advantage. When the Nords arrived, however, they worked the forge, and discovered that something about the magical fires caused the steel to bind tighter, making the weapons stronger yet lighter than when usually forged from steel. Skyforge Steel was hard to come by but well known throughout Tamriel, as were the blacksmiths who worked the Skyforge, members of the Gray-Mane family for as long as anyone could remember.

The blacksmith in Aerenwen felt honored and in awe that she was standing there and wished her father was at her side. "Excuse me, sir," she said, hating to interrupt the great smith from his work.

"What brings you here, lass?" the old man asked.

"Vilkas sent me with his sword for you to sharpen," she replied, passing the weapon carefully to the older man who took it in his large hands.

He chuckled. "You must be the newcomer then. Don't worry too much about it. They were all welps once, even if they don't like to talk about it. The errands will pass. And don't just do what everybody tells you to. No one rules anyone in the Companions."

"Even Kodlak?"

"Nah, he's the Harbinger, an advisor of sorts," Eorlund replied, "but there hasn't been a true leader of the Companions since Ysgramor. Everyone lives their own lives. Every man is his own. Every woman her own. I'm not sure how it's managed, but it's worked for generations.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said, setting down the sword and extending his hand for a shake. "I am Eorlund Gray-Mane, and I work the Skyforge. My clan-fathers have worked this forge since the first Gray-Manes arrived in Whiterun. Skyforge Steel is all the Companions will use, for good reason."

"Are you a Companion?"

"No, I never joined, though I was asked to on several occasions, and my brother is a Companion, retired now but still residing in Jorrvaskr," he replied, gathering the supplies he needed to sharpen Vilkas' sword. "I've always been content to work the forge. I prefer my honor received behind the scenes, providing the tools to support the warriors in battle." He picked up the sword and studied it. "If Vilkas asks, I'll have this done for him before the sunset tonight."

"Thank you," Aerenwen replied. She turned to leave, but the old man caught the longing look in her eye as she gazed at the forge.

"Familiar with a forge, lass?" he asked curiously.

She nodded. "My father was a blacksmith. I grew up playing in his shop and assisting him. I've been making and swinging swords since I was a small child."

Eorlund grinned at that. "You sound like my Olfina, though she's no interest in pursuing the art as an adult. She's a trained bard and helps Hilde out at the Bannered Mare. What was your father's name, lass?"

"Gethin," she replied with a sad smile.

"Aye, I've heard of Gethin," Eorlund told her. "Don't look so surprised, lass! You elves have a way with rare metals that we Nords have never quite mastered. Gethin's glass armor and weaponry is well-known and quite respected through most of Tamriel. I'm honored to be in the presence of a daughter, and apprentice, of a fellow master of the art."

Aerenwen smiled. This was a good day.

"Before you leave, lass, I have a small favor to ask," the old man said, retrieving an ornate shield from his work bench. "I've been working on this shield for Aela, and it's finished. My wife is in mourning, I'm afraid, and I'd like to get home to her rather than spend the time tracking the Huntress down. Could you bring it to her for me?"

"I would be happy to," Aerenwen answered, taking the shield and bidding the kind old smith farewell.

Aela was no longer on the covered porch behind Jorrvaskr, nor was she within the great hall. Aerenwen made her way down to the living quarters to find her, though she had no idea where to look. She knew, though, that Aela wouldn't have left without speaking to her. She wasn't certain why she knew that, or how, but she felt it very strongly.

She was greeted upon entering the living quarters by a Nord woman she recognized as being the third warrior who had been battling the giant on the first day she had met Aela. "I'm Ria," the woman said with a smile. "I was the newest Companion before you came along. If you need anything at all, let me know."

"Thank you," she replied. "I'm Aerenwen."

"Being a Companion is truly an honor. I've wanted to be one since I was a little girl," the young woman told her. "This is life, sister. The struggle is what reminds us to draw breath."

"Any advice as the most recent welp?"

Ria chuckled. "Look out for Njada. She's just generally unpleasant. She's honorable, and you can certainly trust her to have your back in battle, but she's a rather bitter person to be around otherwise. She seems jealous that you're in with some of the members of the circle already, so there's a chance she may even be more unpleasant to you. Don't take it personally. She doesn't like anyone.

"As for the way things are run around here," Ria continued, "the Circle are the ones who hand out the jobs. That's Aela, Farkas, Vilkas, and Skjor. Kodlak is more of an advisor. He rarely gives jobs, but when he does, they're important and usually given to members of the Circle."

Aerenwen thanked her for the information.

"I really hope you like it here as much as I do," the woman continued. "This group . . . this family . . . it's the greatest thing I've ever been apart of. The oldest group of warriors in Skyrim, and nothing but glory since the days of Ysgramor. To be a part of that, to be counted in that line of warriors . . . it's like a bit of immortality. Even if we never see Sovngarde, we'll have that much."

"Tell me, do you know where I could find Aela?" Aerenwen asked when the eager woman had finished her rant. She could see, a bit, why the welps got the reputation they had if they were all as overeager as Ria.

"Her quarters are down the hall to the left in the center there," Ria replied, gesturing with her arm. "Then her room is the one on the left. Skjor's is across the hall. They're quite close."

Aerenwen cocked an eyebrow at the implication in the other woman's tone but didn't say anything. As she neared Aela's room, she heard voices. The doors were opened, and Skjor and Aela were standing inside.

Skjor was an older man, not as old as Kodlak or Eorlund but certainly older than Vilkas and Farkas. Middle-aged. A contemporary of Alvor, probably. He was short for a Nord and clean shaven. His hair was fair but so short and balding it was hard to tell if it was naturally that way or lightening with age.

"Pardon the interruption," Aerenwen stated, stepping into the open doorway. "Eorlund asked me to bring this to you, Aela."

"Thank you," she replied with a soft smile, stepping forward to take the shield from her friend. Although not as relaxed as she usually was when it was just Farkas around, her demeanor had changed when Aerenwen entered the room, and Skjor noted the difference.

"You know this welp, Aela?" he asked.

"I do, quite well, in fact," Aela replied. "I was the one who recommended she speak to Kodlak."

"Sounds like a good decision on your part," the older man commented. "I saw you training in the yard with Vilkas. You've got quite the arm on you."

"Thank you," Aerenwen replied.

"Yes, you gave him quite the thrashing," Aela grinned. "How has everyone else been?"

"Fine," Aerenwen answered. "I haven't had the opportunity to speak to many, honestly. Ria was . . . overly helpful."

Skjor and Aela both chuckled at that.

"Has anyone shown you to the chambers where the welps sleep?" Skjor asked.

Aerenwen shook her head.

"I doubt Aerenwen will be sleeping there often," Aela interjected, and Aerenwen couldn't help but wish the reason was because she would be staying there in Aela's room. "She owns her own home here in Whiterun, but it's best you know where it is in case. Come, I'll show you. We can continue our discussion later, Skjor."

Aerenwen followed Aela out of the room and down the hall. She was surprised when the other woman stopped around the corner.

"Is everything really going well? No one has given you too much of a hard time?"

"Everything is fine, Aela," Aerenwen replied. "Kodlak was very kind and welcoming. He said he saw a 'certain strength of spirit' in me. Vilkas was less so until I showed him I could hold my own with a sword, and Eorlund was a joy to meet. I'd heard about his work and the Skyforge before. Ria is the only other Companion I've spoken to, and she did mention that Njada may give me some trouble. Something about her being jealous over my closeness to the Circle or some nonsense, but I'm not worried about it. Why are you so worried? You know I can handle myself."

Aela sighed. "I know. I just . . . I can't explain it, but I feel incredibly . . . protective of you. The thought of anyone mistreating you makes me unexpectedly irrational. Especially if that mistreatment had to do with your relationship with me."

Aerenwen grinned and glanced around, seeing they were alone in the large hall. She stepped slightly closer to the other woman. "Our relationship, hmm?" she questioned teasingly. "I thought it was a friendship. For now."

Aela returned her teasing grin. "Well, who knows how long the 'for now' period will last, especially if we get to see each other every day."

"I don't know," Aerenwen replied. "I mean, according to Ria, you and Skjor are an item."

Aela scoffed and rolled her eyes at that. "That's all talk started by some ex-Companion who fancied Skjor and was jealous of the time we spent together. You're not worried about that, are you?"

Aerenwen shrugged. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit jealous when she said it. I mean, we've never really spoken of what this is, or could be, aside from some teasing. I've assumed because of that teasing that you feel the same way as I do, but I suppose it could just be teasing, and you may be like that with everyone. For as well as we already know each other, we still have a lot to learn."

Aela nodded, understanding everything the elf had said because they were similar to the thoughts she'd had. "And how is it that you feel?"

"I find you intriguing, amazing, inspiring, and incredibly attractive," Aerenwen replied, deciding to put it all out in the open. "The connection I feel with you is like nothing I've ever felt before, and I wish to explore it. To see where this could all lead. I feel it could be to something incredible."

"I agree," Aela responded softly, gazing up into the taller woman's amber-colored eyes, "and I feel the same about you. I've no interest in rushing things. You need to get settled here, and I don't want people thinking you're only fitting in because you're in my bed at night. I want you to earn your accomplishments within the Companions on your own merit because I know you can, and you deserve all the credit for being the amazing, brave woman you are."

A door closing somewhere nearby echoed through the hall, and they knew they wouldn't be alone for much longer.

"Okay, so we just let things happen as they feel right," Aerenwen stated, squeezing the other woman's hand. "We'll be discreet but honest as we progress. I don't want to hide you or my feelings for you, but I understand not flaunting it. And you'll trust me to hold my own amongst the jealous welps, and if there truly is a problem, I will come to you with it."

Aela nodded. She pulled Aerenwen back as she began to walk away. "Skjor though, really, there's nothing there, Aerenwen. There never has been. People talk. A lot. Farkas, you know, is like a brother to me, but he spends a great deal of time with his own brother, and that leaves Skjor and I to ourselves. We've bonded, but only as shield-siblings. The members of the Circle share a tight bond that I can't really explain to someone who isn't one of us, but never doubt my feelings for you because of my relationships with them. They are my brothers. Skjor is a mentor. A teacher. Just as Kodlak is. There's nothing more, I promise. I've never had any sort of intimate relationship with any other Companion or even entertained the idea of exploring one."

"Is it forbidden?"

Aela shook her head. "No," she replied. "Meaningless affairs are frowned upon because they lead to hard-feelings and distrust which has no place here, but I don't believe a true paring would ever be discouraged if found within the ranks. There have been Companion spouses before, though not for years."

"Good to know," Aerenwen answered. "Now you were showing me where I am to sleep when I stay here."

Aela chuckled. "I wish I could show you where I'd really like you to sleep when you stay here."

The other woman laughed loudly at that. They both nodded in greeting as they passed Ria, and the Dunmer man who had been brawling with Njada in the great hall earlier.

"Here is the room where the Companions aside from the Circle sleep," Aela said as they stopped in front of a door directly across from the stairwell leading up to the great hall. "Just grab a bed and rest, from what I remember, and help yourself to any of the food Tilma prepares. We're all big eaters around here."

Farkas approached them and slung a heavy arm over each of their shoulders. "Getting settled in, Little Ren?"

"I guess so," she replied with a smile. It was hard not to smile when Farkas was around.

"Good. It's time to put you to work then," he grinned. "They've got a bit of an animal problem at a farm outside the city . . ."

 **Author's Note: And thus ends Last Seed (August in Tamriel), and with it, part one of Aerenwen's story. Now we're going to take a short hiatus from her tale to catch you up on what has been happening with her sisters and brother since they were separated. Skyrim has brought surprises and adventure for them all. Each sibling's tale will be told in a separate book, so updates for this story won't tell you when I've posted. The next story - Skyrim Book II: Mari - will be added sometime in the next few days, and we'll follow her through the month of Last Seed as well.**


	9. Proving Honor

Part II: Hearthfire

Chapter One: Proving Honor (Turdas, 4th of Hearthfire)

Aerenwen sat at one of the large tables in Jorrvaskr. Many around her were eating their breakfast, but she had eaten at home with Hamish and Lydia before coming to the hall to see if there was any work available that day.

She had been a member of the Companions for about a week and had already done several jobs for them. They were all fairly simple jobs, meant for warming a whelp up - dealing with wild animals, a few minor bandit chiefs, and warning some citizens off from their unsavory business, roughing them up if necessary to get the point across. So far, the other members all seemed impressed by her abilities and acceptance by the higher ups, a few even a bit jealous.

The Altmer chuckled as she listened to the boasting carrying on around her by some of the other welps. Torvar was a ridiculous character, almost always drunk, but he was entertaining to say the least and a decent warrior to have at your back. Aerenwen made eye contact with Aela who sat nearby, and they smiled softly at each other.

The two women continued to grow closer, though they still hadn't taken any steps beyond friendship. They were both disappointed they hadn't been sent on any missions together and hadn't seen each other much in the last few days as Aela and Vilkas had only just returned during the night from a mission that had them out of town for several days. Both were aching to spend some time together, noticing the absence of the other more than they ever had anyone else.

Farkas approached the group, along with Skjor, wearing a broad smile. The older man even seemed to be smiling a bit.

"Well, welp, it looks like you're doing quite well for yourself amongst our ranks," Skjor stated, addressing Aerenwen. "The old man says it's time to prove your honor."

"How do I do that?" she asked curiously.

"A special mission, accompanied by a member of the Circle," Skjor replied. "You'll travel with Farkas on this one. When you return, if you've passed the test, you'll be initiated as a full member of the Companions. Farkas will catch you up on the details. You leave right away." With that, the gruff man walked away, leaving the small group alone.

"Wow, you're honor testing already," Ria commented in awe. "It takes most at least a month before undergoing that test."

Aerenwen was a bit disappointed that Aela hadn't been chosen to accompany her, but she was glad it would be Farkas rather than one of the other two men. She found Skjor intimidating and Vilkas full of himself. Though she knew she may eventually need to fight at their side, she didn't feel comfortable with them yet, and she was thankful that on a mission as important as this one apparently was, she would be accompanied by someone she was beginning to consider a friend.

Aela expressed the same thought as she walked with them outside Jorrvaskr.

"I'm glad it's Farkas going with you," she stated quietly. The two women walked closely, taking their time as they descended the first set of steps toward the pavilion. Farkas walked ahead, giving them privacy to say their goodbyes. "I know you can handle yourself, but I'll worry less about you both knowing you have each other."

Aerenwen smiled. "We'll spend some time together when I return," she promised, discreetly squeezing the other woman's hand.

As Aela stood atop the steps watching her friends' continued their descent into the heart of the city, Skjor approached her.

"What's the mission?" she asked.

"To retrieve a fragment of Wuthraad," Skjor replied. "Kodlak was informed while you were away of a piece the Silver Hand are hiding away in Dustman's Cairn."

Aela glared at her mentor. "You sent her to battle the Silver Hand as her honor proving?!" she nearly snarled.

"She's a true warrior, Aela," Skjor assured. "She has impressed us all. Aerenwen will hold her own just fine, and she will have Farkas to guide her."

"But the Silver Hand . . ." Aela trailed off, cringing as she thought of their vulgar means of torture. "If they fail, she'll meet the same fate as any of us would. They will just assume she is one of us, and it will be too late before they realize the difference. She has no idea what she's walking into."

"We have big plans for your friend, Aela," Skjor replied. "Kodlak has taken a special interest in her success, and I feel she is an excellent candidate for the Circle."

Aela looked at him with wide eyes. She agreed that Aerenwen would make an excellent addition to the elite members of the group, but she had no idea if the elf would even be interested in the sacrifices necessary to join. It was one fact that had held her back from pursuing more with the other woman. Aela had a secret, one she was bound by loyalty and honor not to reveal to Aerenwen. Yet until the other woman knew the truth, Aela couldn't ask her to commit to her in any way. She wouldn't begin a relationship with a possible life mate who she kept secrets from.

She looked back toward the city, her friends now walking through the marketplace. She prayed to whatever gods may be listening that they would return safely, and that if Aerenwen had to learn the truth on this mission, Farkas would reveal it to her gently.

* * *

"So where are we headed?" Aerenwen asked her companion as they made their way down the stone steps toward the marketplace.

"Dustman's Cairn," Farkas replied, "an old tomb not far from here, to the west."

"And what are we doing there?" she asked the man of few words.

"Looking for a fragment of Wuuthrad," he replied. Seeing she needed further explanation, he elaborated. "Wuuthrad was the great battleaxe Ysgramor himself carried. Ysgramor was the hero who started the Companions. He came from the old land and battled the elves. Years ago it was stolen from his tomb and broken into pieces, scattered throughout Skyrim. We've been searching for all the pieces ever since along with a group known as the Silver Hand. They're not big fans of us."

"Why not?" Aerenwen asked. She'd gotten the impression that the Companions were loved and revered amongst all of Skyrim's citizens.

Farkas shrugged. "Let's just call it a difference of opinion."

"So there's a fragment of this battleaxe located in Dustman's Cairn?" Aerenwen clarified.

The large warrior nodded. "According to some book type fellow who showed up at Jorrvaskr yesterday."

* * *

The journey over the plains to Dustman's Cairn took just over an hour on foot. Farkas didn't like riding horses. It was an uneventful trip, full of storytelling and Farkas' jokes. Aerenwen truly enjoyed the man's company, and she could see why Aela thought so highly of him.

The ancient tomb was barely distinguishable from the outside if not for a few stone pillars surrounding it. A great stone-lined pit was cut into the ground and climbing down into it found them outside the iron door of the entrance.

At first, exploring the old tomb was much like her endeavor into Bleak Falls Barrow - draugr, sarcophogi, rubble, and burial urns. But after some time, they came across the first Silver Hand members. To Aerenwen, they looked like nothing more than common, simply armored bandits, aside from the silver face paint they wore in the form of a handprint across their eyes. But Farkas had told her on their trip they were formidable allies, so she took his word for it.

The two Companions were able to dispatch their adversaries with relative quickness.

"They're strength is in numbers," Farkas muttered after. "It's best to catch them just a couple at a time, or they can overwhelm."

More draugr and some ancient traps, as well as a few more Silver Hand, awaited them as they delved further into the chambers, finally coming upon a room where the exit was blocked by a heavy iron gate.

"I guess we look around for a way to open that," Farkas commented. He headed in one direction, so Aerenwen crossed the room to the other.

She found an iron lever hidden in an alcove and, assuming it opened the gate barring their path, she pulled. Unfortunately, while her assumption had been correct, and the original gate opened, another closed swiftly, locking her into the alcove and separating her from her shield-brother.

"Now look what you've gotten yourself into, Little Ren," Farkas said with a deep chuckle as he approached the other side of the gate. "Sit tight. I'm sure there's a release around here somewhere." He began exploring the room again when a noise caught the attention of them both.

From the newly opened gate came a large group of eight or nine Silver Hand.

"Which one is that?" one of them wondered.

"Doesn't matter," another replied. "He wears that armor, he dies."

Farkas battled his foes for some time, and Aerenwen grew concerned as she could see they were getting the better of him and eventually had him surrounded. She felt helpless and pulled the lever several times, hoping the gate would open. It didn't work, and she was forced to watch through the iron slats as her large friend was overwhelmed.

"Killing you will make for an excellent tale," one of the Silver Hand bragged.

"None of you will live to tell it," Farkas answered. He let out a great groan and his body quickly transformed into that of a beast. Her friend was now unrecognizable. He stood on two legs, even taller than he had been, covered with black hair. His arms had lengthened, giving the impression he could now easily run on all fours if necessary. His hands bore long, dangerous looking claws. His head had lengthened and was now topped with canine-like ears and snout, with a large mouth full of long, sharp teeth.

Although Aerenwen had never seen one in person, she had heard of those infected with the lycanthropy virus though she never would have guessed her friend was one of them. She could scarcely believe her eyes as Farkas tore through the Silver Hand warriors with his claws, ripping at their jugulars with his teeth. He quickly dispatched of half a dozen of them, and then raced down the corridor following those who fled in fear.

A short time later, the iron gate lifted, and Aerenwen stepped out hesitantly. Farkas reappeared, now back in the form of a fully-armored man, a wide grin on his face, although she could see the worry in his eyes.

"I hope I didn't scare you, Little Ren," he commented, keeping his distance just in case he had, his hands raised in a supplicating gesture. "I knew if I didn't change, they'd best me."

"You're a werewolf?" Aerenwen asked, still in a state of shock.

Farkas nodded. "It's a blessing given to some of us. We can become like wild beasts. Fearsome."

"There are more Companions like this?" she asked.

Again, he nodded. "The members of the Circle all have the beast blood."

"Aela?"

Farkas nodded, staying quiet and watching as his friend processed it all.

He may not be the smartest amongst the Companions. He had little time nor interest in books. But he knew people, especially those he cared about, and he was well aware of the strong bond developing between Aela and Aerenwen and that it went deeper than that of a mere friendship or shield-sibling. He also knew that Aela had been fearful to tell the elf about her nature, worried that it would scare the other woman off. Most didn't take kindly to werewolves. Those who were uncontrolled or evil at heart had given them a bad name, and they were hunted by many, most notably the Silver Hand. People feared them, and the Companions kept their secret close to home. Aerenwen would officially be the first member who had not been invited into the Circle to be in on it.

Aerenwen simply nodded. It was a lot to process. The stories she had heard of werewolves described them as fearsome, blood-thirsty, heartless creatures. Yet she had seen firsthand that Aela and Farkas, even Vilkas and Skjor, were not at all like that description. And with the secret as well-kept as it was, clearly they had great control over their shifting.

"Kodlak?" she asked, confirming one last thing.

Farkas nodded. "All Harbingers are chosen from members of the Circle."

Aerenwen nodded her understanding and glanced around at the massacred Silver Hand in the chamber.

"You good?" Farkas asked.

Aerenwen shrugged. "It's a lot to think about and definitely a surprise," she replied, "but you're still my friend, Farkas. You've never tried to eat me."

He laughed at that, deep and loud, echoing through the tomb.

The two warriors continued deeper into the cairn, following the twisting stone hallways and making their way through the chambers. They saw no more Silver Hand but faced more draugr, skeevers, and frostbite spiders. Aerenwen was a bit shocked at how uncomfortable Farkas clearly was with the arachnids. Although he didn't flee, he seemed unusually happy to have her take the lead as they battled them.

The final chamber of the tomb was massive with high ceilings. The walls were lined with stone coffins and on a platform at the end of the room stood a large one, clearly someone of some importance. Behind it was another of the dragon walls Aerenwen had encountered in Bleak Falls Barrow.

Farkas climbed the steps to the platform first. "Here!" he called out, retrieving a piece of metal from atop the coffin. "It's the fragment."

Aerenwen followed, but her attention was focused on the strange words etched into the wall. Again, she alone heard the chanting. She alone saw one of the words glowing with a mysterious light. Just as before, she was overcome. The chanting increasing to a volume that was deafening. The light brightening until it was all she could see.

Just as suddenly, it all stopped, and she knew another word. Yol. Again, she had no clue as to what the strange word meant. She supposed she'd need another dragon's soul to figure that out. She was going to need to address this dragonborn business sooner rather than later.

"Aela told me what happened in Bleak Falls Barrow," Farkas stated when she realized his hand was on her arm, steadying her in the absence of the woman who usually seemed to do so. "I always wondered what these old walls were for."

Aerenwen opened her mouth to speak, but just as before, when the unlocking of the wall had seemed to waken the draugr deathlord, it did so again, although this time, it was dozens of draugr climbing out of the coffins lining the chamber.

They weren't very strong, and it didn't take the warriors long to dispatch them. When they were, once again, alone in the great chamber, Aerenwen spoke.

"So we've got the fragment," she stated. "Now what?"

"We get the hell out of here," Farkas replied, glancing around.

"Aela told me there are usually back ways out of these places," Aerenwen commented. She noticed a set of wooden stairs off to the side and pointed to them.

Farkas followed her, and, sure enough, one of the now opened sarcophagi had a false back leading to a narrow tunnel at the end of which they found themselves very near to the cairn's entrance.

Outside, the two friends breathed in the fresh air and took in the beauty of the night sky. Millions of stars shone down on them, and the two moons appeared to be nearly full.

"Does the moon really control your changes?" Aerenwen wondered.

"Yes and no," Farkas replied. "Not like the stories. We don't change at the full moon. It doesn't happen unexpectedly, and it doesn't matter if there's a moon or not. But the wolf inside us, it communes with the moon somehow. When the moon is up, it wants to hunt. We can feel it, pacing around, I guess is the only way to explain it. I can see why a weak man would be unable to fight the urge. Probably why there's so many stories out there, but for a well-trained warrior, it's not something that is too much of a struggle." He sat down on the raised stone edge of the cairn and gazed at the moon. "We crave meat, fresh, raw. Doesn't matter if it's from man or beast. If the wolf doesn't get any for a while, it gets restless. Then there's the sleep. We don't sleep much, and when we do, it isn't real restful. The beast blood gives us energy. We don't tire easily, so it's not a problem. We do sleep, of course, the mind needs to shut off sometimes even if the body isn't tired. But the only nights we sleep real well are when there's no moon. On the other hand, when the moons are full, we can hardly sleep at all."

"Silver?" Aerenwen asked, going through her memories to try and recall what the tales told of werewolves.

"Stings something fierce," Farkas replied. "Heals slow, too. Most other wounds are healed as soon as we shift back to normal, but silver wounds stick around. If they aren't treated with the right herbs, they can fester, and the poison can spread. Tilma knows all about that."

"And I'm assuming the name of this group we just fought isn't a coincidence," Aerenwen concluded.

"It's not. The Silver Hand are werewolf hunters," he replied. "They hate werewolves, so they hate us. Don't know how they found out our secret. Maybe Kodlak knows. It's a feud that's gone on for years."

"It seems to be a well kept secret," Aerenwen commented.

Farkas nodded. "We weren't told until we were invited to join the Circle. It wasn't really a choice for my brother and me. We had nothing outside the Companions. Our father was one, and we never knew our mother. She died when we were real young. We were raised at Jorrvaskr. It's the only home we've ever known. It seemed our duty and privelege to take on the blessing when it was offered."

"Does anyone ever refuse?" Aerenwen asked.

"No one I've ever heard of."

"What would happen to them if they did?" she wondered. "I mean, clearly it's a well-guarded secret, for good reason. If someone refused, who's to say they wouldn't tell since it had no baring on them if people found out?"

Farkas shrugged. "Those are questions for Kodlak," he replied. "Who knows, maybe that's how the Silver Hand found out about us."

"So do we head back now?" Aerenwen asked, looking off into the distance where Whiterun was simply a mountainous silhouette on the moonlit horizon.

"Aela told me to make sure you rest," Farkas replied. "I forget that not everyone doesn't get tired."

The elf chuckled to herself, remembering the night after Bleak Falls Barrow. She had been exhausted, yes, but she was more conditioned now. And while this tomb had been damp and cool, with that same horrid, musty, dank smell of death, they weren't dealing with the frigid temperatures of that mountain while down in the plains.

"Thank you, Farkas," she said with a smile, "but I've rested long enough. If it's alright with you, I'd just as soon make the trip back to Whiterun. It isn't far enough to warrant choosing a night's sleep on the hard ground over my soft bed."

Farkas simply nodded and stood, and the two traveled through the night to their home.

 **Author's Note: So, we're back to Aerenwen. If you haven't already read them, the first part of the stories of her five siblings have been posted. We'll follow Aerenwen through this second part, the month of Hearthfire, and then we'll go and check in on the others. In Skyrim lore, I've seen this month referred to as Heart's Fire, Heartfire, and Hearthfire. I've chosen Hearthfire because, to me, it makes the most sense. The other months in the year refer to the changing seasons, and this month, equivalent to our September, indicates cooling temperatures and the arrival of Autumn. Also, in this part, we'll begin to see some crossovers between the various stories. When that happens, some parts may be a bit redundant if you've already read the scene from another siblings' point of view. Although this is a series, I want these to stories to stand alone, so I can't just skip over sections because I've already covered it one of the other stories. I've tried my best to change it up a bit - after all, while an event may occur in the stories of both Aerenwen and Mari, for instance, this story would tell of the vent through Aerenwen's point of view and the other would be through Mari's. And hopefully enough time will go by between updates of the individual stories that it won't seem like you just read that scene. Anyway, this particular installment of Aerenwen's story is going to be quite long - a dozen chapters or so. Things are getting interesting in the Companions, and there's also that Greybeard business to take care of.**


	10. Initiate

Chapter Two: Initiate (Fridas, 5th of Hearthfire)

When the two warriors returned to Jorrvaskr, the sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon, but there were still a few hours before daylight. Skjor was awake, awaiting their return in the main hall. He eagerly received the fragment from Aerenwen and met Farkas's eyes. The taller man simply nodded, and Skjor cracked a half smile, patting Aerenwen on the shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

"Your initiation will be tonight after dark in the yard behind Jorrvaskr," he told her.

"I guess that means I passed?" Aerenwen asked with a grin to Farkas after the older man had retreated down the stairs to the living quarters.

Farkas chuckled. "Always knew you would, Little Ren. Get some sleep."

Aerenwen opted to get a few hours of rest in the welp's dormitory rather than returning home and risk waking Hamish or Lydia. She removed her boots and the heavier pieces of her armor, climbing beneath the warm furs and falling into a deep sleep almost as soon her head hit the pillow.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her, she was the topic of heavy conversation in Skjor's quarters.

"It was a trap," Farkas told the other members of the Circle, minus Kodlak. The old man was often left out of their meetings as of late. "There was no way either of us would've gotten out alive if I hadn't shifted."

"Aerenwen saw you?" Aela asked, fearful of her would-be lover's reaction. She knew this day would come. She had dreaded it and had avoided intimacy with Aerenwen because of it. She would never keep such a secret from her chosen partner, but she was under oath to not reveal their nature to anyone outside of the Circle and would not break her oath.

Farkas nodded. "I'm sorry, Skjor. I know I broke the oath, but I had no choice." The large man hung his head in shame. He looked up and met the gray eyes of his elder. "Little Ren is trustworthy. She won't tell our secret. I would bet my life on it."

"He's right," Aela agreed. "If this had to happen in front of any of the welps, it's good it was Aerenwen. She can be trusted."

Vilkas, meanwhile, was studying the older man. "You knew," he accused.

At Aela and Farkas's questioning looks, he continued.

"He knew it was a trap. He knew Farkas would have to show her what we are," Vilkas stated.

"I didn't know," Skjor replied, "but I suspected. "When that scholar came and met with the old man, there was something off about him. Kodlak and I both suspected it may be a Silver Hand trap. He suggested we send two members of the Circle. I chose to send Aerenwen instead."

"Why?" Aela asked. "You put her in unnecessary danger! You made Farkas break the oath."

Skjor shook his head. "Farkas did not break the oath. Our oath states we cannot tell anyone outside the Circle of our beastblood without inviting them to join us. It says nothing about a necessary shift in front of witnesses in order to save yourself and said witness. Kodlak senses a leadership in Aerenwen. I see it as well. Times are changing, and this battle with the Silver Hand is only getting closer to home. I needed to know if there were any among our newer members who could handle the truth.

"We haven't had a member worthy of rank within the Circle in five years," he continued with a nod toward Aela. "Whether she chooses to be one of us or not, I needed her to know the truth. Gods know the old man won't tell her."

"Kodlak won't like this," Vilkas stated.

"Kodlak is not our leader," Skjor replied. "We do as we choose, and the fact is, our Harbinger is getting on in years. When the time comes, one of us will be chosen as his successor. The Circle must continue. Must grow. We must look toward recruiting worthy members instead of the lot of rabble we've been getting over the last few years. Kodlak has chosen in his old age to look at as a curse what he once thought a blessing, and you, Vilkas, have chosen to follow his lead on that. I choose to bare my beastblood proudly, as does Aela, as did our forebears. Farkas has yet to make his choice. Aerenwen will be given her choice as well. It is not Kodlak's call. She has proven herself worthy, and as is tradition, when the time comes, she will make her choice."

Vilkas nodded, though he clearly wasn't pleased, and left the room. Farkas shrugged and cast a small smile in Aela's direction before following his brother out of the room.

Aela studied Skjor for a moment. "Why the subterfuge?" she asked. "Why not just tell her?"

"I knew we would face opposition from Kodlak and Vilkas," Skjor replied. "I knew there was a chance they would tell her it was a curse or let her believe the folktales. This way, she has gotten to know us. She knows we are honorable. She has seen us live fairly normal lives. She can come to terms with the idea before it is ever even presented as an option to her, and I think it will lead to a more open opinion on her part than it would have if we had followed tradition and let the old man tell the tale."

Aela nodded and began to walk toward the door.

"I did it for you as well," Skjor added.

She turned back, her surprise evident in her eyes.

"You've always been a loner," he continued. "I know you have a father, but I've always seen you as a daughter since you showed up on our doorstep seven years ago, telling us you were Ester's daughter. You're a strong woman, Aela. An excellent archer. A fierce warrior. You deserve someone at your side as more than simply a shield-sibling. I've seen you with this Aerenwen. You're different with her. At first, it concerned me, but in the short time she's been here, I have grown to respect her and see that she is of good stock. At the end of the day, after the battle is over, we all crave the comfort of a familiar touch. You've been so closed off, I feared you would never find that. But then the elf came along. You could have that companionship with her, girl. A true partner for life. Just as Kodlak has with Tilma. Just as I once had with your mother."

Aela's eyes widened.

"Aye," Skjor replied with a sad smile. "I didn't think you knew. Niall is a good man, Aela. Your mother truly loved him," he said, referring to her father, "but he was not a man who took well to having a warrior for a wife. Just as he tried to stop you, he attempted to keep her from joining our ranks. When she took the time off while she was expecting you, he grew even more adamant that she was to stay home. But that wasn't Ester. She would have been no more happy tending a house than you would be."

Aela smiled at that. It was true. She had loved her mother and cherished the memories of the times she would break from her adventures and visit her in her father's small cabin, but she had never questioned why she chose the life she had. Aela was born with the independent warrior streak that ran through her mother's family, and, to her father's dismay, she had dreamed of following in her mother's footsteps since she'd been old enough to pretend a stick was a sword and a plank of wood was a shield.

"Ester was heartbroken when Niall made her choose," Skjor continued. "He told her she could visit you, of course, but that he was finished being husband to a woman who insisted upon risking her life everyday. She had loved him. And for a long time after, she was lonely. Unfortunately, that outcome is all too common for those of our chosen life path. Whether our spouse is a man or woman, if they don't understand the warrior spirit, the need for adventure, they often come to resent it and all the nights they spend alone wondering if we're dead or alive. It's rare to find someone who understands you, and even rarer to find someone who will both have your back and hold your heart. After a time, Ester and I found that together. When I lost her, I lost a piece of myself, but I know she awaits me in the hunting grounds. I see in you and Aerenwen what was once between your mother and I."

Aela shook her head, unable to process all the usually private man had just revealed. "What does that have to do with sneakily revealing our lycanthropy to Aerenwen?" she asked.

Skjor chuckled. "I know you, Aela. You are stubborn, independent, and often infuriating. Just like Ester. And also like your mother, you're one of the most honorable women I've ever met. You don't have a dishonest bone in your body, and I knew that our secret would prevent you from seeking more with Aerenwen but that you would never break your oath of secrecy. Now she knows. Whether she chooses to become one of us or not, whether Kodlak is able to prevent us from even making that invitation, now she knows it all. There are no barriers left in the way of you finding happiness."

"Thank you," the woman stated, though in her current state of mind it sounded more like a question. She turned back toward the door, resting her hand on the doorknob, but before she opened it, she spoke. "What if she hates what we are?" she asked so quietly if there had been any other noise in the room Skjor wouldn't have heard her. "What if she spurns me because of what I am?"

"My instincts tell me that won't happen, child," Skjor replied, "but if it should, your brothers and I will help you through it."

Aela nodded.

A short time later she sat in the chair beside Aerenwen's bed, watching the beautiful elf sleep. She wondered what she was dreaming. Was it of her? Of finding love with her? Or of her being a hideous beast? When the other woman began to stir, Aela stood and quickly left the room, disappearing from Jorrvaskr and Whiterun for the rest of the day.

* * *

It was another cloudless night. A fire burned in the courtyard behind the mead hall, and all the Companions were gathered around it. The moons were full, and with her new knowledge, Aerenwen could see the barely discernible agitation of the members of the circle whose beasts were being called forth. She scanned the crowd, her golden eyes finally falling upon the woman she had searched for ever since waking. Aela hadn't been around, and no one seemed to know where she was. Aerenwen had begun to fear something had happened to her, but there she was, standing beside Skjor and the other members of the Circle on the opposite side of the fire.

Farkas stood beside Aerenwen, one of his big hands resting on her shoulder, as Kodlak stood in front of the group.

"Brothers and Sisters of the Companions," the old man began, "tonight we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold. This woman has endured, has challenged, and has shown her valor. Who will speak for her?"

"I stand witness for the courage of the soul that stands before us," Farkas announced proudly.

"Would you raise your shield in her defense?" Kodlak asked.

"I would stand at her back that the world might never overtake us," Farkas replied.

"And would you raise your sword in her honor?" Kodlak asked.

"It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes," Farkas answered.

"And would you raise a mug in her name?" Kodlak asked.

"I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories," Farkas stated.

"Then this judgement of the Circle is complete," Kodlak announced. "Aerenwen, your heart beats with the fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, so the mountains may echo, and our enemies may tremble at its call."

All the members of the Circle spoke in unison then. "It shall be so."

Aerenwen finally met Aela's eyes across the fire. The other woman looked at her with pride, but Aerenwen could also tell that she was worried about something.

"Well, girl, you're one of us now," Kodlak stated, approaching Aerenwen and pulling her attention away from the woman who was coming to mean so much to her. "I trust you won't disappoint."

"Thank you, sir," she replied simply.

"Are you enjoying your time here?" the old man asked. "You seem to be rising through the ranks quickly."

"It is an honor to keep company with my shield-siblings," she answered. "I . . . I'm curious about something. Well, a lot of things, really," she chuckled, "but one thing in particular is at the forefront of my mind."

"You may ask me anything, child," the Harbinger replied. "It's what I'm here for."

"How did the members of the Circle come to be werewolves?" she asked discreetly.

Kodlak's eyes widened in surprise, and he frowned slightly. "I see you've been allowed to know some secrets before your appointed time. That, lass, is a story for another place," he glanced around at the other Companions lingering just out of earshot. "Come see me in my quarters when you have the time. I shall answer any questions on that topic you may have."

Aerenwen thanked him and looked around for Aela. She spotted her again, finally, sitting on the stone steps leading up to the large porch on the back of the mead hall. She made her way toward the other woman, progressing slowly as she was stopped frequently to receive congratulations from those gathered.

She finally reached Aela who was in the midst of a hushed conversation with Skjor. The older man cast his crooked smile at the elf and welcomed her to the family before giving Aela a look full of meaning and walking away, leaving the two women alone. Well, as alone as two can be in a yard full of celebrating warriors.

"Congratulations," Aela stated with a smile, raising her flagon of mead as she looked up at the elf.

"You've been avoiding me," Aerenwen accused.

"I . . . " Aela started to deny the accusation, but Skjor was right. She hated lying, especially to those she cared about. "I have."

"Why?" Aerenwen asked.

Aela shrugged and actually felt as though she could cry. She blinked quickly, hoping to hide any sign of moisture in her eyes. "Fear," she replied with a dry chuckle. "I'm not afraid of much, Aerenwen. I can't remember a time in my life I've truly been afraid. Through all the hunts, the battles, the adventures . . . I've never felt fear. Yet ever since last night when Farkas told us what happened at Dustman's Cairn, I've been overwhelmed by this absolutely paralyzing fear, and I don't even know how to handle it."

"What are you afraid of?" Aerenwen asked.

"You," the other woman replied simply.

"Me?!" the elf answered, unable to hide her surprise. "Why on Nirn are you afraid of me, Aela?"

"I'm afraid you'll see me as a monster now that you know the truth," the Nord answered.

Aerenwen sighed and took a seat on the step beside the other woman who looked so sad. "Is that how you see yourself?"

Aela shook her head.

"How do you feel about the beastblood?" she asked.

"Proud," Aela replied. "It's a blessing. I'm stronger in so many ways. I'm a better warrior because of it."

"Aela, why should I view you any differently now than I did before?" Aerenwen asked. "You're not a monster. You've never tried to hurt me. You've never shown any sign of losing control. I was surprised . . . shocked . . . when I found out, but not because I was opposed to the idea but rather because I never expected it." She paused for a moment and glanced over at Farkas who was laughing boisterously near the fire. "Before this place, my only experience with this were the stories, but you've all shown me there is another side to things." She turned to Aela and waited for the other woman to meet her eyes. "This changes nothing. Everything we said my first night here, how I feel, how I see you, what I want . . . nothing has changed, Aela."

Aela sighed audibly in relief. "Thank gods," she stated, leaning into the other woman's shoulder. "The thought of you not wanting to see where this could go . . . it just . . . I couldn't . . ."

"Sssshh," Aerenwen soothed, resting her head atop Aela's. "There's nothing to worry about. Nothing has changed between us. Except maybe that we don't have any secrets anymore."

"Skjor apparently shacked up with my mother for years," Aela announced, speaking of secrets.

Aerenwen glanced down at her in surprise.

"I know. I just found that out last night," Aela replied.

"Sort of makes those rumors about you and Skjor even more disturbing," Aerenwen commented.

Aela laughed at that. "You still haven't told me why you're a fugitive."

Aerenwen nodded. "I will. Another time, though? Tonight our friends are celebrating. I'd rather not ruin the mood."

Aela agreed and stood, taking Aerenwen's hand and helping her to her feet.

"Get over here you two!" Farkas called out. "I'm getting ready to tell them about the hundred draugr we faced in the deepest chamber of the cairn!"

Aela glanced at Aerenwen. "A hundred draugr?"

The elf chuckled. "A few dozen maybe."

Aela laughed and wove her arm through the other woman's, leading her toward their friend.


	11. History Lessons

Chapter Three: History Lessons (Sundas, 7th of Hearthfire)

Sundas morning found Aerenwen sitting in the wooden chair opposite the table from Kodlak in the sitting room of the Harbinger's private quarters.

"What do you know of our history, lass?" he asked.

"A bit, mostly through tales I've heard from the other Companions," Aerenwen replied.

"We've existed for thousands of years but haven't had a true leader since Ysgramor," Kodlak explained. "The Harbinger is here for guidance, to resolve disputes, and to handle the finances that keep our organization afloat. In our existence, there have been both great and terrible Harbingers. Some who brought further glory to the name of the Companions; others whose poor choices brought consequences we still must suffer today.

"Ysgramor led his people to Tamriel from Atmora to flee the civil war that raged there. They settled in the far north, in present day Winterhold, in a city they called Saarthal. They battled the Snow Elves who inhabited those lands at the time and were eventually massacred during the Night of Tears. It is said only Ysgramor and his two sons survived. They fled back to Atmora and returned with five hundred companions, landing at Hsaarik Head in the east and avenging their dead. One of his sons, Yngol, was said to be lost on the voyage. He was buried in a tomb near where they landed, and Ysgramor settled the city of Windhelm to be nearby his son's resting place. He, himself, is interned in a tomb far to the north where, in his rest, he could overlook both Skyrim and his homeland of Atmora. The kings of Skyrim descended from Ysgramor for generations, and for a great many years, the High King sat on the throne in Windhelm.

"It was Ysgramor's successor, Jeek of the River, who founded Whiterun. He was one of Ysgramor's closest friends and captained the ship, Jorrvaskr, on their return to Tamriel. It is said our mead hall is built from the hull of that very ship, carried by Jeek and his companions over great distance. They discovered the Skyforge, already ancient and feared by the elves. Jeek was the keeper of the original oath of the Companions, which has been lost to us through the ages.

"After them, there are a few who go down in history and are remembered well for their deeds. Mryfwiil the Withdrawn, who decided the Companions shall hold no political affiliation, a tenant we still hold true. Prior to that, Companions often faced their own shield-siblings on the battle field of the wars of the kings. It was difficult to be a unified group when separated by politics. Cirroc the Lofty, the first Harbinger not of Atmoran lineage, a Redguard, in fact; Henantier the Outsider, the first elven Harbinger; Macke of the Piercing Eyes, the first female Harbinger; and Kyrnil Long-Nose, who restored honor to the Companions after generations of greedy Harbingers brought shame upon Jorrvaskr. It was Kyrnil who established the first Circle of members, to provide further stability to our group and prevent the dishonorable from abusing the position of Harbinger.

"Then there was Casper, a good but short-sighted man," Kodlak continued. "He made a bargain with the witches of Glenmoril Coven. If the Companions would hunt in the name of their lord, Hircine, they would be granted great power."

"That's when they became werewolves?" Aerenwen asked.

Kodlak nodded. "This was a few hundred years ago, and in their defense, Casper and the members of the Circle at the time did not believe it would be permanent. They were deceived."

"The witches lied?" she asked.

"No, not really," Kodlak replied. "The Companions of the time got what they asked for. What they didn't realize was the disease doesn't just affect our bodies. It seeps into our spirit. Upon death, we are claimed by Hircine and brought to his hunting grounds. For some, this is paradise. They want nothing more than to hunt prey with their master for eternity. For others, myself included, we wish to work toward another afterlife. I am a true Nord, and I wish for Sovngarde as my spirit home."

"Is there a cure?" Aerenwen asked.

"That is something I'm still researching," the old man replied with a wave of his large hand toward the many bookshelves lining the edge of the room. "I hope so, and I hope I find it before my death. Regardless, this is a fact we now make sure is made known to prospective members of the Circle." He gave the high elf a significant look, and she suspected he gathered she was a prospective Circle member.

"If that is the case, and it is a choice they are aware of, then why would it be considered a curse by anyone?" Aerenwen asked. "Unlike the Companions of old, it's an educated decision on their part now."

"It is now. It will be for you," Kodlak answered, "should that time come, but it was only just short of two years ago that Vilkas learned the truth when he uncovered a book on lycanthropy on one of his errands. Every current member of the Circle was initiated before that. They did not have that knowledge, and so, the choice, in regards to an afterlife, was taken from them. Since then, the Circle has been split. Vilkas and I no longer answer the call of our beast blood, though we feel its pull constantly. Farkas tends to follow his brother on most things, but I know he transforms from time to time and doesn't feel as strongly as we do about it. Aela and Skjor, they still revel in their beast blood, and I've no doubt both would find eternal happiness hunting with Hircine in the afterlife. It has caused some tension, a rift, amongst a once very close group and brought into question a centuries-old tradition.

"Vilkas feels those who don't accept the beast blood because of its eternal consequences should still be allowed to join the Circle if they are worthy. Skjor disagrees," Kodlak continued. "It is for that reason, not just my own peace, I seek a cure. I wish to reunite the Circle as it once was and continue our traditions as they stand. It cannot be denied the beast blood gives us certain advantages. If a member could accept it but then be cured either before or upon their death, the tension and differences of opinion would no longer matter."

Aerenwen nodded.

"Do you have any more questions on this topic, lass?" the old man asked.

"How long have each of the members of the Circle held that standing?" she wondered.

"I have been a Circle member for thirty-seven years, a Companion for forty-nine," Kodlak replied. "I lost my family at a young age and turned to a warrior's lifestyle in order to survive. My predecessor, Askar, found me when I was working as a bodyguard in Hammerfell and recruited me.

"Skjor joined the Companions nearly twenty-five years ago and has been a Circle member for almost as long," he continued. "He served in the Great War and lost his way afterward, as many displaced soldiers often do. I found him in Solitude, a drunken mercenary, and saw the fire in his heart.

"Vilkas and Farkas have technically been Companions for about twelve years, though they've lived in Jorrvaskr since they were young lads," Kodlak explained. "Their father, Jergen, was one of us and a member of the Circle. When their mother died, the twins came to live here on my permission. They couldn't have been more than five years old at the time. I doubt they remember a day when Jorrvaskr wasn't their home. They were inducted into the circle ten years ago.

"And then there's Aela," the old man finished with a smirk. "You and the Huntress seem to be developing a close bond. Has she told you her story?"

"A bit of it," Aerenwen replied.

"I'll leave it to her, but I will tell you she has been a Companion for seven years and a Circle member for five," the Harbinger finished. "Now, if there's nothing else, my wife and I usually try to take Sundas for ourselves."

"Of course, thank you for making the time to answer my questions, sir," the elf replied, rising from her seat.

"Any time, child. That's what I'm here for," Kodlak answered with a smile.

* * *

Aerenwen sat atop the edge of the guard's tower built into the stone wall behind Jorrvaskr. Her feet dangled over the edge, and she gazed out at the beautiful view before her. The planes stretched a short distance and were separated from the snow-topped mountains by the flowing White River.

"A septim for your thoughts," a voice commented.

Aerenwen smiled and glanced behind her where Aela stood leaned against one of the wooden support beams holding up the roof of the tower, her arms crossed and the familiar, alluring smirk on her face.

"I was just thinking about how beautiful this province is," she replied.

Aela climbed up onto the wall, letting her feet dangle beside Aerenwen's. She sat close enough their bare shoulders touched, and she looked out over the scenery as well. "You haven't gotten to see much of it, have you?" she asked.

Aerenwen shook her head. "Just between here and Helgen, and obviously my trip into Helgen from Cyrodiil wasn't exactly for sightseeing or adventuring, and then the few excursions I've taken as jobs from here, but none of those have taken me far from Whiterun so far."

"You have lots of time to explore," Aela replied. "I'll have to take you to Falkreath. It isn't far, but even so, it's so different from Whiterun Hold. Covered almost entirely by thick forests. The air there is heavier. More humid."

"That's where you're from, right?"

The huntress nodded. "My mother grew up in the town of Falkreath, though her kin are long since gone. Some traveled south to Cyrodiil, the rest have died off. My father was from the north. Grew up in a town called Dragon's Bridge in Haafinger, a couple of hours on foot from Solitude. He took to hunting and traveled to Falkreath Hold because of the plentiful game there. They met, I'm told, while my mother was on one of her missions for the Companions. He never much liked that she was a warrior, wanted a simple housewife, I suppose, but the heart wants what it wants. I was the only child of their marriage, and after my birth, when Ma still refused to settle, Pa told her he was through, I guess. She visited often, but he never let me visit her here. Pa taught me to hunt, but I always wanted to be just like Ma. She told me stories of the women in her family, Companions for generations. She died when I was fourteen. Killed by members of the Silver Hand, though I only found that out upon joining the Circle myself. Her death made Pa even more adamant against me joining up, but the older I got, the less say he had in it. I've always been stubborn and independent," she added with a smirk. "When I was seventeen, I left home and came here. Our relationship has been strained since. I tried to visit a few times, but he was so cold. I think he thought maybe if he could show his disapproval by freezing me out, I would quit and come home. But that just shows he doesn't know me all that well after all. Eventually I stopped trying. I haven't been home in two years."

"I have four sisters and a brother," Aerewen said after a short silence, deciding it was time to begin her story. "That's very uncommon amongst my people. Large families are nearly unheard of, and there are rumors that those who believe in Altmer superiority actually commit genocide when their children don't live up to the standards. My siblings and I were all considered 'perfect' in terms of the Altmer race, so despite our size, my family was never looked down upon.

"My father, Gethin, was a blacksmith and very talented at his art. Eorlund had heard of him and praised his glass armor and weapons," she added with pride, causing the Nord woman to smile. "It was his skills in forging that kept him alive and well living in his homeland even after refusing to continue fighting for the Thalmor after the Great War. You see, when the war was over, the Thalmor executed or imprisoned any soldiers or mages they still had use for who were no longer willing to fight for their cause. They called them traitors, even if the only thing they'd ever done was refuse to continue fighting. My father told me of many who fled the islands, some to find peace, others freedom from servitude in the Aldmeri Dominion's armed forces. My uncle was one of them. He left just after the war, disillusioned with the Thalmor and their views. He ended up here in Skyrim, earning his living as a bard and mercenary. He'd write home often and tell us of his adventures.

"My mother, Enid, was a mage, a master at all the arts, though her primary interest was in alchemy and restoration magicka. In that way, she served our village as a healer and alchemist. She was under constant scrutiny from the Thalmor because of her family's ties to the Psijiics."

"Who are they?" Aela asked, interrupting.

"The Psijiic monks are the Altmer who still follow the old ways," Aerenwen replied. "The Aldmer who came from Old Ehlnofey worshipped ancient ancestor spirits, but after settling in the Summerset Isles, their ways and cultures began to change, developing them into who everyone now knows as the Altmer. A group of elders, the Psijiics, rebelled against the change in religion when the Altmer began worshipping the eight divines, feeling the Old Ways should continue to be followed. When they were outnumbered, they left the main islands and established their home on the smaller island of Artaeum. It is said they were the first elves to leave, even before those that branched off and settled other areas of Tamriel and evolved into other races - the Bosmer, Dunmer, Dwemer, Ayleids, et cetera. For centuries, they were still in constant contact with the rest of Tamriel and served as advisors to not only the Altmer, but other races as well. Then, sometime in the First Era, one of their members, Vanus Galerion, left Artaeum and established the Mage's Guild in Cyrodiil, making the magical arts available to common folk. Around the same time, another Psijiic, Mannamarco, who is now known as the King of Worms, began worshipping daedra and developing his necromantic cult. Not long after those two events, Artaeum disappeared. It reappeared 500 years later, but the Psijiics refused to reveal where they had gone. They went back to their role as advisors for centuries. Then, about a hundred years ago, it disappeared again."

"Your mother was tied to these people?" Aela asked.

Aerenwen nodded. "They may be mages, but many of them still had families. When the island was present, there were members who had spouses and children elsewhere and would travel back and forth using their magical abilities. The Psijiics have methods of communicating and traveling over great distances that others do not. My grandfather was one of those mages as was his grandfather before him and others down our family line. My uncle, Quaranir, my mother's only sibling, was recruited into the Order about forty or fifty years ago, and because my mother learned much of her training from her father, though she never joined the order, her beliefs and practices were rather Psijiic in nature."

"Wait, I thought you said the island disappeared about a hundred years ago," Aela interrupted.

Aerenwen nodded.

"Then how did your uncle join them fifty years ago?" the Nord asked, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"They're not really gone," the elf replied. "They possess magicka and knowledge we cannot even begin to comprehend, and through their abilities, the island is just not visible to outsiders. It's in another plane of existence, maybe, or shrouded. I'm not sure, really, but the Psijiics are very aware of what is happening in Tamriel at all times, and though most aren't aware of it, they intervene when necessary and recruit those they find worthy of membership in their order. The Thalmor and the Psijiics do not get along. The Thalmor don't trust them, and for that reason, my mother's family was always watched. It only grew worse after my uncle left.

"So, that's how we grew up," she continued, "always under constant scrutiny and watch by the Thalmor. My siblings and I knew as we prepared to leave home and follow our own paths, that we would be watched as well. Especially my sister, Mari. She has a talent for magicka that far surpasses the rest of us. My mother trained her, then sent her away to learn from some other mages out of fear that if Mari's training came solely from her, the Thalmor would assume she held Psijiic beliefs. The rest of us found our own talents. My interests as a child always brought me to my father's forge. That was where I spent the majority of my time, helping him, training under him, learning to wield the various weapons . . . it was, inevitable, I suppose, I became a mercenary long before I had to leave my homeland."

Aela smiled.

"My sisters and I were all doing well for ourselves," Aerenwen continued. "I was working as a mercenary, avoiding any call to arms by the Thalmor and attempting to stay under the radar. If they knew of my talents, joining the army wouldn't have been optional. Steffen, though, got into some trouble. Races on mainland Tamriel tend to generalize all Altmer as being Thalmor. That is not the case. There is just as much injustice and unrest when it comes to their rule at home as there is here, if not more. And gods protect those brave enough to speak against them . . . execution or life in prison is all they ever get out of doing such. When I was a girl, my best friend's family simply disappeared over night because her father had argued with a Thalmor justiciary publicly. In recent years, the disapproval of the Thalmor has only grown, and the younger generation, my generation, has become more active about it rather than fearful. A group, The Beautiful they're called, sprung up about a decade ago. They're an underground organization, anonymous for the most part, but they spread pamphlets and commit acts of terrorism against the Thalmor. Not necessarily the best way to go about things, but their choices are limited, and it's definitely affective. Unbeknownst to us, Steffen joined them. One of their hits went wrong. It was a trap, and he was arrested. When my father fought for his release, he and my mother were arrested as well. They were coming for my sisters and I, but we were a few steps ahead of them thanks to a warning from our parents and help from dear friends.

"We had a family meeting, you see, after Steffen's arrest. Mother and Father called us home to Mathiisen. They had only learned of what happened through an acquaintance in Firsthold where the arrest took place. We were instructed to stay under the radar but return to our normal lives, to do anything we could to not seem as though we were at all against the Thalmor, though every single one of us disagreed with their rule. I was headed back to my home in the port of Vulkhel Guard when I was met on the road by my dear friend, Raja-dar. She told me that the town was overrun by Thalmar guards who were looking for me. It was thanks to her that I was able to return to Mathiisen to the meeting place my father had arranged should the worst happen. Eventually, all my sisters arrived, but to our horror, my parents had already been arrested.

"We plotted and, with our combined talents, broke Steffen out of the prison where he was held, but when we went after my parents, we weren't successful. The guards were coming, and my father commanded us to flee, to leave them there, to leave Aldmeris, to get my brother out of there and back to health. They had done horrible things to him there, you see. We hated to leave them, but we followed his orders and barely got out with our lives. Raja-dar hid us in Vulkhel Guard and secured us passage to Cyrodiil on a trading barge. We left the following night, spent a week or so in hiding in Anvil until Steffen was healthy enough to travel, then we headed north for Skyrim, knowing the Thalmor presence is less here and hoping to find our uncle. We'd made it just south of the border and had split up to find supplies when I got caught in the Imperial ambush for the Stormcloaks. You know the rest of the story."

"I had no idea the Thalmor were so horrible to their own people as well," Aela commented.

Aerenwen nodded. "So here I am, doing quite well for myself with employment, a title, a home, a family," she cast a smile at Aela, "and yet a part of me feels so much guilt because I don't know where my sisters and brother are. I don't know if they're alive, if they're hungry, if they're wandering in the cold . . . I just don't know, and I feel I should be out there looking for them, but I wouldn't even know where to start."

"If they're anywhere near as resourceful as their sister, I'm sure they are doing fine," Aela assured her. "And now that I know your story, I'll keep an eye out and see if I can find any trace of them on all my travels. Farkas would help as well, you know, if you told him. You mentioned Steffen. What are your sisters' names?"

"Elain, Mari, Nesta, and Glenys," Aerenwen replied. They fell into silence and stared at the distant mountains.

"That's the Throat of the World," Aela stated after some time, gesturing toward the tallest mountain. "It's the tallest mountain in all of Tamriel, and see that there," she pointed near the top, "the silhouette of what looks like a fortress rather than the natural mountainside?"

It took her a few moments, but soon Aerenwen nodded to show she could see what Aela was pointing to.

"That's High Hrothgar," the other woman told her, "home of the Greybeards and where you need to go if you ever want to find out what it means to be Dragonborn."

Aerenwen chuckled. "I suppose I should probably stop putting that off."

Aela nodded and nudged her shoulder. "Farkas told me there was another dragon wall in Dustman's Cairn and that the same thing happened. It's time you got some answers, Aerenwen, and only the Greybeards have them."

Aerenwen nodded her agreement.

"And besides, what better opportunity to explore this beautiful province and see if you can find out any news on your siblings in other parts of Skyrim."

The huntress had a point.

"And I'll go with you if you'd like," Aela added.

Aerenwen smiled. "I just might take you up on that offer."

 **Author's Note: Surprise! A third chapter on my day off today. This chapter is lacking action and was more informational . . . we finally learned a bit more about Aerenwen's background . . . so I figured I'd post it. If I'm feeling really motivated, I may post more tonight. If not, it'll come later in the week.**


	12. An Unexpected Reunion

Chapter Four: An Unexpected Reunion (Morndas, Eighth of Hearthfire)

The next morning found the two women on assignment. They left Whiterun after sharing breakfast with Lydia and Hamish and stood outside the Whiterun stables, packing their saddle bags with supplies for a few days away from home.

Aerenwen caressed her horse's neck. Queen Alfsgir, as the breeders had called her, Aerenwen had taken to calling the beast Allie. Like all horses bred in Skyrim, Allie was huge, standing much taller than the horses the high elf was accustomed to. Allie was solid in color, as was indicative of the horses bred in Whiterun Hold, and was such a dark brown that she almost appeared black. Her body was massive, not only in height, but also in sheer muscle, and her hooves, and those of her breed, were larger than any Aerenwen had ever seen.

Aela's horse, Hanna, though a slightly lighter brown, was otherwise similar in appearance to Allie. It had been the Huntress's idea for Aerenwen to purchase a horse at the stables. It had been a couple of weeks since she had done so, and although she'd made sure to ride the beautiful creature daily around the outskirts of the city to allow them to become acquainted with one another, this would be their first journey out of town together.

On horseback, the journey from Whiterun to Riverwood was nearly cut in half, the warrior women arriving in the small village in just over an hour. They didn't stop, but guided their horses through the town's center in a slow trot, greeting some of the residents they passed by.

In another hour, they sat atop their horses outside the wall of Helgen.

"We don't need to go through," Aela explained. "We can backtrack a bit and take the road by the river. It would take a bit longer as it skirts the lake, but if you're not ready to walk through Helgen again, it isn't necessary to do so this morning."

"It's fine," Aerenwen stated. "You almost wouldn't realize what happened here just by looking at these walls."

It was true, in the area around this particular gate to the city, the walls stood seemingly untouched. The only sign from where they stood that anything at all had happened there was a notice nailed to a post along the roadside.

 _Town of Helgen closed due to dragon disaster. Travelers, enter at your own risk._

Aerenwen dismounted and led Allie by her reign to the gate. It was unlocked and slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, revealing the devastation within the town's walls.

"By the gods," Aela gasped, coming to stand beside the other woman. "I'd heard how bad it was . . . from you and others . . . I just . . . it's more than I could've imagined."

Unlike the last time Aerenwen had been in the town, she was met with silence as she slowly walked the main road. The screams of terror and roar of the dragon had been replaced with an eery sort of quiet, and honestly, the elf wasn't sure which she preferred. The clop of the horses' hooves on the cobbled road almost seemed too loud for the surroundings.

Helgen still smelled of scorched wood and charred flesh, although there had obviously been a large clean up effort. The bodies were gone, and the road had been cleared, because though she was sure most would stay away, the road through Helgen was a main thoroughfare connecting the holds of Whiterun, Falkreath, and the Reach, and trade routes would need to be maintained.

As they passed through the town, the events of that fated day played through Aerenwen's mind. Her near-execution, her leap from the tower, finding Hamish . . . dozens of near-death encounters with the massive dragon. Aela kept glancing between the rubble and her friend in concern. Although it wasn't unusual for the High Elf to be quiet, there was a sullenness and pensiveness about her the huntress wasn't used to, and she was concerned their trip through the devastated town, no matter how brief, may bring up some unresolved trauma in Aerenwen.

As they neared the gate that would take them out of the city, she finally spoke. "Do you think they will rebuild?"

"Possibly," Aela replied. "Helgen was an important military town. Aside from Solitude, it always had the greatest presence of Imperial soldiers, even before the war. Though I can't imagine it will be any time soon. Resources and manpower are stretched too thin with the war. It will likely stay like this for some time, and I'd imagine bandits will take residence here before too long. It's a good location for ambushing travelers and trade caravans, once people are comfortable traveling through here again. For awhile, I'd bet anyone who can afford to take the extra time will travel around the Throat of the World near Whiterun rather than taking the mountain pass through Helgen."

It was some time before Aerenwen was able to shake the dark mood the trip through Helgen had left her in, but as they entered the thick, coniferous forest of Falkreath Hold, she was acting more like her usual self, much to Aela's relief.

"That's my father's home," Aela stated as they passed a small cabin located not far from the road, tucked into the base of a rocky hillside. "He's likely not home now. Out hunting, I'd imagine." She stated this as if it was her reason for not stopping as they passed, but after what she had told her friend about her relationship with her father, Aerenwen doubted she would have stopped either way.

Some bandits had set up a trap for travelers just outside of the hold's capital, but they were no match for the two trained warrior women.

They arrived in Falkreath late morning. The town reminded Aerenwen of Riverwood in its wooden architecture and simplicity. It was partially surrounded by a wall composed of a mixture of stone and wood, but the natural landscape of rocky outcrops was used as a defensive border as well.

Something about the town was offputting to Aerenwen. The forests of the hold they had traveled through thus far were bright and full of the sounds of cheerful birds and active wildlife. Falkreath town, however, was damp and dark, a shroud of mist that was absent in the surrounding area seeming to hang over the town itself.

"We're to meet Dengeir at the inn around noon," Aela explained as the two women tied their horses to a post outside the inn named, as Aerenwen read on the sign, Dead Man's Drink.

"Who is this man?" Aerenwen asked. "You seemed to know who he was when Skjor gave us this assignment."

"Dengeir of Stuhn," Aela replied. "He used to be Jarl of Falkreath up until about three years ago."

"So he was the Jarl when you were growing up here?"

Aela nodded. "He was encouraged to retire and replaced by his nephew Siddgeir. He holds the title of Thane now. Last I heard, he was certain there was an Imperial conspiracy against him. Siddgeir's loyalty is with the Empire, but Dengeirr is an old-fashioned Nord, and Falkreath probably would've sided with the Stormcloaks were he still in charge. I'm told he's certain that's the reason he was forced to step down." Aela shrugged. "There could be some truth to it, I suppose, but more likely, his age was having ill effects on his frame of mind. He was always a bit paranoid and weak of mind, forgetful, indecisive. I can't imagine those traits would get any better with age."

"What's the job?"

"I don't really know," the other woman replied as they walked up the few steps leading to the porch outside the inn. "Skjor said the letter didn't have much information aside from Dengeir stating it was imperative we send several battle-hard Companions to aide Falkreath Hold and that he'd tell us more in person. If it's politically related, we're to refuse the job and return to Jorrvaskr. If not, it sounded like we could be here a couple of days at least."

The inside of Dead Man's Drink was very similar to the Sleeping Giant. There weren't many patrons, being that most of the townsfolk were probably hard at work. Three of the five people at the inn were obviously employees. An attractive Imperial woman stood behind the counter at the far left of the room, thumbing through a book; a buxom and beautiful Nord woman was wiping off one of the long wooden tables; and a Breton bard stood near the open fire in the center of the large room, tuning the lute in his hands. Aside from them, two other men were in the establishment: a middle-aged warrior clad in simple iron armor sat near the fire with a flagon in his fist, and a finely dressed aged man with white hair and beard sat at a table facing away from the door.

"There's Dengeir," Aela commented with a nod toward the elder. Aerenwen followed her across the room, and they took a seat on the bench on the opposite side of the table as the man.

"Ah, you've made it," the old man stated with a smile. "Aela the Huntress, and who is this?"

"I am Aerenwen," the high elf replied.

"I had hoped Kodlak would send a better suited team," Dengeir commented with a frown.

Aela narrowed her eyes. "If you are referring to the fact that we are women, surely my reputation proceeds me," she replied. "If you're referring to the fact you are unfamiliar with my shield-sister, I can assure you that although she is a newer member to the Companions, she has been with us for some time and is more than capable. Certainly the most advanced warrior in our ranks outside the Circle. If you're referring to her race, that should be a nonissue as, I'm sure you're aware, the Companions do not deal in politics, and if this mission you need our help with is at all related to the war, we have strict orders to return to Jorrvaskr without involving ourselves any further."

The old man looked rightly chagrined and glanced around to make certain no one could overhear his next words. "An empty grave appeared in our great cemetery last week," he began. "The citizens of Falkreath believe it to be the work of a corpse thief. The truth is far less pleasant. The grave is . . . was the grave of Vighar, my own ancestor, dead for centuries now. He is a vampire, and my family, his descendants, were entrusted with keeping him buried. Someone stole the wardstone. I didn't realize this until his grave lay empty, and I went to retrieve it from its hiding place. It was gone, and Vighar has risen."

"You want us to find this wardstone?" Aela asked.

Dengeir shook his head emphatically. "It's too late for that. Vighar must be destroyed. Not only is he an extremely powerful vampire, but if word of this gets out, my family will suffer great shame. I was able to use a local warrior to discreetly track his whereabouts to Bloodlet Throne, an abandoned fortress in the Jerell Mountains, but I knew I needed warriors of experience and great valor to face this enemy. He is a powerful master vampire and appears to have already filled the fort with thralls and developed quite the following."

"So we take care of Vighar and his followers," Aela confirmed with a nod.

Dengeir nodded as well. "Vighar should be wearing a ring baring my family's crest. Please return it to me upon his death. Only then will I be able to rest easy. The most direct path to Bloodlet Throne begins outside the eastern gate of Helgen. I will have payment for you upon your return."

At that, the former Jarl stood and, after paying the innkeeper, left the building. The other man, the warrior, who had watched the encounter with great interest, had left the inn moments before, leaving the two women as the only patrons in the small tavern.

"Can I get you ladies anything?" the barmaiden asked, approaching their table.

"What's the special today?" Aerenwen asked.

"Valga has a fresh batch of apple cabbage stew for today," the woman replied. "It's served with some fresh baked bread and your choice of beverage."

"We'll each take that," she ordered. "Do you have spiced wine?"

She nodded.

"I'll have a goblet of that please. Aela?"

"A flagon of Honningbrew please," the huntress ordered.

They sat in silence until the waitress returned with their order. "I'm called Narri. If there's anything else I can get you, just give a shout."

After she'd left them alone again, Aela spoke. "We should probably get a room here for a couple of nights. It would be best to strike off for this Bloodlet Throne first thing in the morning that way we can be certain all the vampires will be there seeking shelter from the daylight."

Aerenwen nodded her agreement as she dipped her piece of bread into the broth of the stew and took a bite.

"When we've finished, we'll need to return here to meet with Dengeir again," Aela continued, "so that would have us back in Whiterun on Middas at the earliest." She swallowed a spoonful of stew. "Have you ever fought vampires?"

Aerenwen shook her head.

"Sanguinare Vampiris can be contracted just by proximity to them," Aela explained. "If you catch it, you're sick for two or three days and then you wake up a vampire. It's actually the only disesase my beastblood is susceptible to. Thankfully, until it is has developed into vampirism, it can be cured with a simple healing potion. I always drink one the day after any encounters just to be safe."

"If it can be cured so easily, how does it spread so quickly?" Aerenwen asked.

Aela shrugged. "If you weren't aware you had encountered a vampire or if your knowledge on the contraction of the disease was lacking, you would probably think you just had a common cold, not feeling sick enough to bother spending the money on a potion. By the time you realized it was more than that, it would be too late. Other than that, vampires often capture those they wish to spread the disease to, thereby limiting their access to cures."

Aerenwen nodded. Made sense.

"There's an apothecary shop here," Aela continued. "Grave Concoctions. We should pay it a visit this afternoon, that way if she doesn't have any in stock, she can have some prepared for us upon our return. The apothecary is a Redguard. I've done business with her before. She's a bit eccentric, but her skill is decent."

After eating, the two women approached the counter.

"Welcome to Dead Man's Drink," the proprietor greeted with a smile. "Did you enjoy your meal?"

"We did, thank you," Aerenwen replied. "It was delicious."

"Is there anything else I can get you, Companions?" she asked.

"We'll be needing a room for two nights," Aela replied, pulling out the small bag of coins Skjor had given them to cover the expenses of the trip. A benefit to being a Companion, food and board expenses were covered while on a mission rather than taken out of the member's own pocket.

"And can we get a couple of those sweet rolls?" Aerenwen added, her sweet tooth getting the best of her. "They look divine."

The innkeeper grinned. "They're fresh out of the oven," she stated proudly. She began jotting on a piece of paper, tallying up their expenses. "Let's see, the meal was six septims a piece, then three septims for the mead and four for the wine, the sweet rolls are four septims each, and the room would be ten septims each night." She glanced up at the women. "I'm afraid I only have a room with a double bed available. Is that alright?"

Aela smirked and glanced at Aerenwen. "I think we can probably make do with that just fine."

"Great! So that's . . . " the woman paused as she tallied up their total " . . . forty-seven septims."

Aela paid her an even fifty, stating that the extra three were a tip for the waitress.

"Thank you for your business," the innkeeper replied. "Are you well, Aela? It's been some time since we've seen you in these parts."

"I am," she replied with a smile. "Thanks for asking, Valga. Is . . . have you . . ." she stumbled over her words.

Valga smiled sadly, knowing what the warrior was having such a difficult time asking. "Niall drops by at least once a week to do business and have some drinks with the locals," she told her. "He is in good health."

Aela smiled and looked relieved.

"We haven't met," the Imperial woman stated, extending her hand to Aerenwen. "Valga Vinicia, proprietor of Dead Man's Drink."

"Aerenwen," the elf replied, accepting her handshake.

"If there is anything at all I can get you ladies during your stay, just let me or Narri know," Valga told them. "I'm fixing up a batch of venison stew for tomorrow."

"We'll be away for much of the day tomorrow," Aela replied. "Also, could I have some oats and carrots for our horses? We'll be leaving first thing in the morning, and I'm not sure how late we will return."

Valga was obviously very curious about just what business the Companions were handling in Falkreath and how it involved Dengeir, but she refrained from prying and simply nodded. "We've got a mixture of oats, carrots, and apples that's included in the price of your room, as you may remember. Narri will bring it out to them shortly and also make sure there's fresh water in the trough."

The warriors thanked her again and headed toward the door. They were checking on their horses when they heard a gasp nearby.

"Aerenwen?!"

The elf turned and stared wide-eyed at the woman who had spoken.

Aela looked around her horse to see who in Falkreath knew her shield-sister, only to be shocked as she found a woman who looked almost identical to Aerenwen. This Altmer was shorter than the woman who was rapidly winning her heart and thinner, less muscular. Her long hair was such a light blonde it was almost white, and she wore it in a high ponytail. But her golden eyes and her angled features were almost a perfect match to Aerenwen's.

"Mari?!" Aerenwen gasped, her shock quickly being replaced with a look of relief and pure joy.

The two Altmer closed the distance between them and quickly embraced.

"I have been so worried about you!" Aerenwen commented, her arms still around the smaller woman.

"And I you, sister," Mari answered with a smile.

Aerenwen took her hand and lead her toward her shield-sister. "Mari, this is Aela. We work together, and she's a dear friend . . . for now," she added with a grin.

Mari, too, grinned and glanced between her sister and the other woman, obviously understanding immediately what the 'for now' implied.

"Aela, this is my sister, Mariwen," Aerenwen introduced, "though most call her Mari."

"The mage, right?" Aela confirmed with a smile, accepting a handshake from the woman.

"Aw, sister, you've been telling stories about me," Mari teased. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Aela. Any woman who can put up with my sister and win her otherwise unattainable affections is definitely one I'm happy to meet."

Aela chuckled and, though curious about what exactly she meant by that, decided she would leave her questions for Aerenwen for when they were alone later.

"We have so much to catch up on," Mari told her sister. "I have a few more hours of work. Are you staying at the inn?"

Aerenwen nodded. "We'll be gone on business for most of the day tomorrow, but we're staying until Middas."

Mari squealed excitedly. "Let's meet for dinner here then, shall we?" She glanced between her sister and her sister's friend/lover.

Aela couldn't hide her surprise at Mari's enthusiasm. While Aerenwen was certainly warm-hearted and had an excellent sense of humor, a dry wit, she was stoic and quiet, often a woman of few words and an observer. Her sister, however, was bubbling over with energy and seemed to be quite the opposite.

Aerenwen glanced at Aela for agreement, and of course, the woman nodded. How could she deny her love dinner with one of her long-lost sisters? "That sounds excellent, Mari. I can't tell you how happy I am to see you."

Mari grinned and, though obviously reluctant to leave her sister after only just finding her again, she promised to see them at dinner and wandered off down the road to the left, glancing over her shoulder with a smile every so often.

"So that's Mari?" Aela commented with a smirk.

"That's Mari," Aerenwen answered with a nod.

"She's . . . enthusiastic," Aela laughed.

"That's putting it mildly," Aerenwen chuckled. Her mood was bright, the somberness from their trip through Helgen earlier a distant memory. She hooked her arm through Aela's, and the Huntress led her down the road toward Grave Concoctions.

* * *

"What is with this town's preoccupation with death?" Aerenwen asked later as the two women left the apothecary shop with potions in hand. "Dead Man's Drink? Grave Concoctions?"

Aela laughed. "There's a huge cemetery here," she replied. "The largest in Skyrim. It's sort of the town's only claim to fame, and the resident's have built upon it. There were a lot of battles fought here in ancient times, and the dead would be buried here. It developed an honorable reputation, and great warriors from throughout the province were soon requesting burial in Falkreath."

Later, as they unloaded some of their supplies in the small room they would call their home away from home for the next couple of nights, Aela asked the question she had been wanting to since meeting Mari. "What did your sister mean when she said you had unattainable affections?"

"Caught that, did you?" Aerenwen replied. "I've never really had a real relationship."

Aela nodded, not terribly surprised. Neither had she. "The life of a warrior makes that difficult," she commented.

"No, it's not just that," the elf answered. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "Before I met you, I'd never felt that pull, that attraction to anyone . . . ever. Not even a little bit. I've had sex with people, male and female, trying to find it, but I never did, nor did I really enjoy it. I always thought, maybe, I was destined to be alone. That I just wasn't meant to enjoy the company of another person in that way. I'd resigned myself to that, and then I met you."

"You feel that pull with me?"

"It's so strong and so . . . foreign," Aerenwen answered. "That's part of why it's so scary but feels so right. I don't just find you pretty or enjoy your company . . . I want you, desperately. Like I've never wanted anything in my life. I crave your presence, Aela."

The Nord stared in the elf's golden eyes, moved by what she'd said, and dove forward, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss, their first. It was everything both women had hoped for, and after some time, they sat together, breathless, still embraced.

"You might not have enjoyed it, but I find it hard to believe that anyone who experienced what I just did felt the same," Aela teased.

Aerenwen blushed and placed a soft kiss on the other woman's jawline.

"You've really never enjoyed sex?"

"Nope."

"I intend to change that eventually."

Aerenwen smirked. "I'm going to hold you to that."

* * *

"We always thought you'd end up as more than a mercenary," Mari commented with a smile after Aerenwen had finished updating her on her life since their separation. "And I can't wait to travel to Whiterun to see your home and meet my new nephew."

Aerenwen smiled, pleased her sister was so quick to accept their newest family member. "Now it's your turn. Tell me how you found yourself in Falkreath."

"Well, that night we were separated, the ambush you were captured in," Mari began, "I was wounded. Took an arrow here." She placed her hand over a spot on her abdomen. "Somehow, I wandered all the way here. I have no idea how I found my way through the mountains. I barely remember it. I recall being so cold, and there was so much blood . . . I was near death when I finally spotted the lights of Falkreath. I sat in the cemetery to rest and must have passed out because the next thing I remember, I woke up in a bed, and my wounds had been tended to.

"I was discovered by a man named Kust. He's a retired warrior who lives at the Hall of the Dead with the priest and tends to the cemetery," she continued. "He brought me there, and I was taken care of by Runil, priest of Arkay. As it turns out, Runil is also a fugitive from the Thalmor. He was like Father and Borir. He served as a battlemage during the war but longed for peace afterward. The Thalmor weren't done with him, and we know how that turns out. He fled and found his way here and devoted his life to Arkay. He's well respected in the community, but they don't know of his past. He fears if they did, they wouldn't look upon him the same. As far as anyone in town knows, I'm his niece, visiting from the Imperial City.

"Anyway, it took a while to get me back on my feet. I stayed with Runil and Kust, and then I got a job at Corpselight Farm working for the Caerellia's. They need extra help with the harvest, and Indara isn't well right now. She's working some, but they're in mourning. Their daughter was killed a few weeks ago. By a werewolf," she added with a whisper.

Aela and Aerenwen exchanged alarmed glances.

"I killed it," she added excitedly. "I hunted this white stag, and when I killed it, Hircine appeared to me as a ghost of it. He commanded me to kill the werewolf. He'd lost control of his shifting, and he'd stolen something from the daedric prince. He gave it to me. It's a ring. And he gave me some armor. I don't really have any use for them. You could probably take them if you'd like."

Again, Aela and Aerenwen exchanged a glance that went unnoticed by Mari.

"Since then, things have been quiet mostly," Mari finished. "I'm living and working at the farm. I've made some friends. I'm no Thane," she giggled, "but I'm doing well for myself."

"I'm glad," Aerenwen commented with a smile, reaching across the table to squeeze her sister's hand.

"I didn't know you folks knew each other," the waitress, Narri, stated as she approached the table. "Refills?"

"Aerenwen is my sister," Mari stated proudly.

The waitress looked surprised. "I didn't know you had any siblings, Mari."

"Five of them," Mari replied.

"All scattered throughout Skyrim," Aerenwen added, hoping it was true.

Narri nodded and glanced at Mari again as she topped off their flagons then walked away.

"What's going on there?" Aerenwen asked, ever observant.

"Nothing," Mari replied. "Well, something, but you know me."

Aerenwen chuckled. Her sister had always enjoyed spending time with various members of the fairer sex, but it rarely meant anything to her beyond the physical and friendship. "Enjoying yourself?" she asked with a smirk.

Mari grinned. "Don't I always?"


	13. A New Companion

Chapter Five: A New Companion (Tirdas, Ninth of Hearthfire; Middas, Tenth of Hearthfire)

Bloodlet Throne was a fort with a partially collapsed tower built amongst the stone crags and trees in the mountains south of Helgen. From the outside, it appeared abandoned, but beings as the current inhabitants were vampires, Aela and Aerenwen knew they were seeking shelter from the sun inside the fort's stone walls.

Inside, they discovered the fort, itself, wasn't very large, but a tunnel dug into one of the walls led into the mountain, connecting natural caverns and making the vampire's lair quite large.

Vidghar was found in a throne room after some time, surrounded by followers and trained pit wolves. The battle was fierce, but the women persevered. The ring Dengeir had spoken of was worn on the master vampire's right hand, and Aela removed it from his corpse.

It was nearly nightfall when the warriors returned to the inn in Falkreath. They joined Mari for dinner again and then retired for the night, eager to set off for home first thing in the morning.

* * *

It was a beautiful day. One of those days in late summer where the sun was high, the temperature warm, but a light autumnal breeze blew, keeping the heat away. After coming down out of the mountains from Helgen, the women decided to walk a bit, enjoying the weather and conversation and not really in a hurry to return to Jorrvaskr where assignments might pull them apart again.

"I think I'm going to take a few days off to spend with Hamish," Aerenwen said as the women walked hand-in-hand, leading their horses behind them, "then strike off for High Hrothgar at the end of the week."

"I think that's a good idea," Aela replied. "It's time you get some answers and figure out just what your role as Dragonborn means. Would you like some company?"

"I'd love it if it's your company you're referring to," Aerenwen answered with a smirk. "Though I should probably visit the monastery alone."

The Nord agreed. "I can stay in Ivarstead while you visit the Graybeards. Though if you haven't shown up in a few days, I can't promise I won't come looking."

Aerenwen laughed.

The peaceful sounds of wildlife were interrupted by a sort of animal-like crying just off the road in the trees.

"What's that?" the elf wondered.

"Sounds like something is hurt."

The women tied their horses to a nearby tree and followed the sound, discovering a small fox, just a baby, caught in a hunter's trap. It's leg appeared broken, and it's cries were heartwrenching.

"We can't leave it like this," Aela commented. She knelt down beside the kit and was surprised when the animal nuzzled her hand like a puppy would.

"Hamish could use a pet," Aerenwen stated with a smile.

Aela laughed, having intended to put the poor thing out of his misery. Instead, she pried the trap open. The kit crawled away but couldn't put any weight on his broken leg and continued crying. It curled into a ball at Aerenwen's feet and looked up at her with big, brown eyes. She bent down and picked the fox up, cradling it gently in her arms.

"Come on, little kit," she soothed, scratching the fox beneath its chin, "let's get you home and healed."

"Can't you heal it now with some of your . . ." Aela wiggled her fingers, "magicka stuff."

"His leg should be set first," the high elf replied. "It isn't right." She wrapped a piece of cloth from her saddlebag around the wounded leg. Aela held the fox while she mounted her horse and then passed it back up to her. She carefully held it in one arm, and Allie's reigns in the other. "We'll get him home and get it set, then I'll heal him and feed him."

Aela nodded her agreement and mounted her own horse, following her friend down the road in a quick gallop.

* * *

The fox let out a yelp of pain when Aerenwen set its bone but didn't try to bite or get away. It was as if it understood they were helping. Hamish stood by anxiously, watching as the golden light emanated from Aerenwen's hands as they hovered over the fox. Soon, the small animal wiggled it's foot and was able to stand, and it brushed against Hamish who giggled and pet it.

"What's it called?" he asked his foster mother.

"Well, a baby fox is a kit," Aerenwen replied. "We could call him Kit."

The boy smiled. "Do you like your new name, Kit?" he asked, and the fox licked the boy's cheek in reply, causing the small Nord to giggle.

"Hamish, why don't you get some beef out of the larder for your new friend," Aerenwen suggested, smiling at the scene.

"Come on, Kit, you hungry?" the boy asked.

"He looks happy," Aela commented from where she had quietly stood beside the door, watching.

"They both do," Aerewen chuckled, watching as the small fox excitedly pranced around the boy's feet as he prepared a plate of beef for him.


	14. Ivarstead

Chapter Six: Ivarstead (Fridas, 12th of Hearthfire)

Ivarstead was a small village, similar in size to Riverwood though a bit more sprawled out. It was situated on a slope between the Darkwater River and Lake Geir in the shadow of the Throat of the World.

It had taken the two women a full day to travel there from Whiterun, and it had been a beautiful and fairly uneventful trip. The road followed along the White River for some time, through forests similar to those in Falkreath though a bit more sparse, as it traveled around the base of the great mountain. The foliage changed from a mostly coniferous forest to a decidious one after some time, the trees majorily of the birch variety, and their leaves already showing the faint yellow hues of the approaching autumn. They turned from the main road and followed a road through some mountains providing breathtaking vistas of the holds known as The Rift and Eastmarch, and Aela had pointed out the volcanic tundra that separated the two. Even from a distance, the steam from the hot springs could be seen rising over the rocky terrain, and seeing her friend's fascination with the alien landscape, she promised to take her there someday.

The sun was beginning to set as the two women tied their horses outside the Vilemyr Inn and made their way inside. The inn, very similar to those in Riverwood and Falkreath, was full of patrons, townsfolk who had quit their work for the day and a few hunters who frequented the area.

The innkeeper greeted them and introduced himself as Wilhelm. "Are you here to make the journey up the 7000 steps?" he asked.

"How did you know?" Aerenwen wondered.

"We don't get many visitors passing through town for any other reason," he replied. "Although, if you don't mind me saying, you don't look much like pilgrims."

Aela chuckled. "We're not pilgrims," she answered. "We're Companions, actually, though the trip to High Hrothgar is of a more personal nature."

"Companions!?" Wilhelm exclaimed. "Well, then, allow me to serve you each a drink on the house!"

The women thanked him and accepted the mead.

"We'd like a room for a few nights," Aela told him. "Three at least, possibly more."

Wilhelm nodded eagerly, obviously pleased to have the business. "Are you Aela the Huntress?" he asked.

"I am," she replied with a smirk.

"It's an honor to have you staying here, both of you, although I'm afraid I don't know your name," he said with a sheepish smile toward Aerenwen.

She chuckled. "I'm new," she explained, "to both the Companions and to Skyrim."

"This is certainly turning out to be an exciting few weeks here in this small town," the innkeeper boasted. "Companions staying here in Ivarstead, and why, just last month, we had a visitor stay in town for a few weeks, one of your kind, and she cured us all of our fear of the barrow at the edge of town. We were tricked to believe it was haunted. Turns out some treasure hunter made fools of us all, but Nesta set it straight and took care of him for us."

Aerenwen's eyes widened, and she interrupted the man as he continued to carry on about their visit. "Did you say Nesta?"

Wilhelm nodded. "Do you know her?"

"She's my sister," Aerenwen replied, her own excitement growing. "Is she here?"

The man frowned. "I'm afraid she left here just over a week ago. She was headed for Riften. You could probably find her there. Nice girl. Brave. A bit foolhardy. But eager to help and kindhearted. Why, most folks look down on poor Narfi, but she took him food and ate dinner with him almost every evening while she was here."

"Who's Narfi?" Aela asked.

"He's a man here in town," Wilhelm replied. "Simple. Something ain't right with him, but he was born that way. His family's all gone now, and he lives alone in their rundown cabin across the river, although Nesta paid to have some work done on it, so, far as I know, the roof ain't leaking no more."

"And you said she was headed to Riften when she left here?" Aerenwen confirmed.

Wilhelm nodded. "Aye. That's what she told us. Lynnly might know more. She's the bard here and helps around the inn as well. They were friends."

Aerenwen glanced across the room toward where an attractive blonde played a lute and quickly excused herself to go and talk with her. Aela paid Wilhelm for their room and some dinner and then followed after her.

"Oh, I do hope you find her," Lynnly was saying as Aela approached. "She was dreadfully worried about all of you. I'm not really sure what her plans were in Riften. She promised she'd come back for a visit before snow falls though, so if she hasn't seen you when she comes, I'll tell her you were here and that you can be found in Whiterun."

"Thank you, Lynnly," Aerenwen replied. She followed Aela to their room and, after shutting the door behind them, grinned broadly at her friend. "I can't believe it. Nesta! Here! You know what this means, don't you?"

"That we'll be taking a detour to Riften on our way home?" Aela asked with a chuckle.

Aerenwen frowned. "You don't mind, do you? I mean, we don't have to. I can come back after. I know you hadn't planned to be away that long."

Aela approached the other woman and placed her finger on her lips, silencing her. "Shush. You know I would do anything to help you find all your siblings. I will be right beside you as you follow this lead and any others you may get. They're important to you, so they're important to me as well."

Aerenwen sighed and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman's waist, burying her face in her hair and inhaling the scent she was growing so familiar with - outdoors, fire, and just Aela. "Have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

"Perhaps," Aela teased, "but you're welcome to tell me anytime you please."

Aerenwen chuckled and glanced around the room. "They only had the room with the double bed available as well?"

Aela bit her lip and looked guilty. "I may have requested it when given the choice of this or two separate rooms. I hope you don't mind. It was selfish of me, but those two nights in Falkreath, lying in your arms . . . I don't remember when last I slept that well. It's as if even the beast in me finds peace with you, and I would be lying if I said I didn't miss it these last few nights. I've missed your warmth, your scent . . . my arms have ached for this." She wrapped her arms tighter around Aerenwen and buried her face in the other woman's neck.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same," the elf replied, and they stood like that, just holding one another in silence for some time.

Later, the two women lay in bed together wearing only their underclothes. They still hadn't crossed the line into full intimacy, but after a great deal of heated kissing and heavy petting, they'd found themselves relaxing in an embrace, Aerenwen lying on her back with Aela in her arms, her head rested on the other woman's golden-toned shoulder.

Aela absent-mindedly traced patterns on the flat expanse of Aerenwen's exposed stomach as the elf told her stories of all the trouble and exploits Nesta had gotten into at home.

"Tell me about Riften," Aerenwen said after a time.

"It's the capital of the Reach," Aela replied, "comparable in size to Whiterun, walled and built upon the edge of Lake Honrich with canals flowing through the city. The marketplace is one of the largest in Skyrim, and most of the city's business revolves around the Fishery and the Black-Briar Meadery. It's also home to Skyrim's orphanage and its branch of the Thieves Guild. Though rumor has it, they've been quite down on their luck. It isn't as safe as Whiterun, with the thieves and heavy involvement in the underground skooma trade. All in all, it could be a quaint little town, but with the corruption and dangers, I wouldn't want to call it home. The Jarl has allegiance to the Stormcloaks, but from what I hear, she's in Maven Black-Briar's pocket."

"Who is Maven Black-Briar?" Aerenwen asked.

"She owns Black-Briar Meadery and is Thane of the Rift," Aela replied. "Very influential, very rich. And rumor has it, she has friends everywhere, from the Empire to the Thieves Guild to the Stormcloaks and the Dark Brotherhood."

Aerenwen raised her eyebrows. She'd heard of the Dark Brotherhood, a group of assassins that was once prominent throughout Tamriel. They'd even taken credit for the assassination of an emperor once years before. "What could Nesta be doing there?"

Aela shrugged and continued her ministrations on the other woman's stomach, finding a ticklish spot as she circled Aerenwen's naval, causing the elf's abdominal muscles to contract and a slight gasp to escape her. "Could be she just went there because it's the largest city nearby. She may have been doing well here in Ivarstead, but there isn't much here. Definitely not a place to start over and make a life for herself. It would've been like you remaining in Riverwood and not continuing on to Whiterun."

Aerenwen nodded.

"But, I'll be frank, love," Aela continued, causing the other woman to smile slightly with the use of the pet name, "from what you've told me of Nesta, she's just the type the Thieves' Guild would recruit. Her skills would be beneficial to them, and it sounds like her proclivities would draw her to them as well. She may find herself a member if she's there too long."

Aerenwen began to argue but realized the huntress was right. That life of adventure, of living above the law and easy money would certainly appeal to her younger sister's rebellious streak.

"If that's the life she chooses, Aerenwen, you can't be too hard on her," Aela stated, raising her head slightly to meet the other woman's eyes. "We all travel different paths to success, and she's your sister. We may not see any honor in that lifestyle, but we can't dictate or understand the desires of others. Just as you are finding your success in Whiterun as a Companion, Nesta will find her own niche."

"You'll accept her either way?"

Aela smiled and placed a soft kiss on Aerenwen's lips. "I'm not going anywhere, Ren. Your family is my family now. I always wished I had siblings, and if I end up with a thief for a sister, I won't love her any less."

Aerenwen stared at Aela in silence for a few moments, her amber eyes gazing into the Nord's silver-green ones. She reached her hand up and caressed Aela's face, wondering what she would look like without the warpaint. Aela immediately reapplied it at Jorrvaskr after washing up and never removed it while out of the city, so she had still yet to see the other woman's face without the reddish-brown claw marks across it. "By the gods, I'm falling hard, Aela," she finally commented, so quietly that even as close as they were, the huntress had to strain to hear the words.

"I'll catch you if you catch me," she replied with a smirk.

They kissed then, and Aela's firm thigh found it's way between Aerenwen's applying just enough pressure to elicit a gasp of pleasure from the other woman. She kissed down the elf's jawline and sucked gently on the other woman's neck.

"Our first time," Aela stated softly, her mouth just centimeters from Aerenwen's ear, "will not be in an inn when we need to part ways the next morning. But I promise you, when it happens, and the way things are going, I suspect it will happen soon, I will make you feel so much pleasure, you'll have no idea of how you ever lacked interest in it in the past."

Aerenwen let out a strangled groan as Aela pressed her thigh down again and rolled it slightly, pressing their lips together and gently running her tongue across the elf's plump bottom lip. She'd never wanted anyone, or anything, the way she craved the Nord woman's touch, and she knew she was being teased to increase her desire.

"Aela, please," she begged, and she never begged.

"Soon, my love," Aela replied, removing the pressure from her thigh and placing a soft kiss on Aerenwen's opened mouth. "Soon, I promise."

She rolled onto her back and pulled Aerenwen on top of her, switching their positions, so the elf's head now rested on her shoulder, her deep red hair fanning out on the pillow behind her.

"Where did you tell the others you were going?" Aerenwen asked after some silence.

"Farkas knows exactly where I am," Aela replied, "and exactly what is going on between us," she added with a chuckle. "Everyone gives him a hard time for being a lout, but, in truth, I'm not certain I've ever met a man who reads people as well as he does. He's known from the start that we would be more than shield-siblings, and he's rooting for it. He cares for you deeply, and he's like a brother to me. I don't think he'll be satisfied until we're standing before an altar of Mara, pledging ourselves to one another."

Aerenwen laughed. "And the others?"

"I simply said I had a personal errand," she replied, "just as you did. Skjor, too, has picked up on what is going on between us, so I suspect he gathers we're together."

"Is he alright with it?" the elf asked, knowing just how much the older man's opinion meant to Aela.

"Aye," she replied. "That's part of the reason he sent you on that ridiculous, dangerous mission with Farkas. He saw what we could be but knows me well enough to know I would never pursue true intimacy without being completely open and honest with that person. He had hoped Farkas would have to let you in on the secret in a manner that didn't break his oath, which is exactly what happened, because he knew I never would break mine, but the guilt of secrecy would keep me away from you."

"Smart man," Aerenwen chuckled. "I think Kodlak suspects."

"Probably," Aela agreed. "He's very observant, as well, and his wife, somehow, has eyes all over Jorrvaskr. Although we've been rather discreet there, I know there is very little that goes on beneath that roof that Tilma isn't somehow privy to. I doubt any of the welps have picked up on it, though. Although I know they must be aware we are close, there's no reason yet for them to assume it's anything more than a friendship. And if it's alright with you, I would just as soon it stay that way until you are initiated into the Circle."

Aerenwen looked up suddenly, her amber eyes wide with shock. "I'm to become a member of the Circle?"

"That's the plan," Aela replied with a proud smile. "Skjor is very impressed with you. It's another reason he wished for you to know our secret. Because of the dissension amongst us right now about whether or not the beastblood is a curse or a blessing, he wanted you to have time to form your own opinions on the matter before the choice was given to you. You've impressed Kodlak as well, though he wasn't pleased with Skjor's methods. Farkas adores you, and even Vilkas has bregrudgingly begun to respect you. Obviously you have my vote. We all think you would make an excellent member of the Circle. And I suspect Skjor wishes to fill his space before he steps up as the next Harbinger, so he can offer his guidance in the field and not just at Jorrvaskr."

"Skjor will be the next Harbinger?"

Aela shrugged. "It makes the most sense. It's up to Kodlak, of course, who he chooses to pass the role on to. But Skjor has the most experience of all the active Companions, and the others already look to him for leadership more so than they do the rest of us."

"Do you think that will happen soon?" Aerenwen wondered. She traced a scar on Aela's abdomen with the fingers of her right hand.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "Kodlak is in good health, and he doesn't venture into the field much anymore, so his life isn't really in danger. I suspect he would do so more if it weren't for Tilma. The worry is too much for her in her advanced age. But it isn't entirely unheard of for a Harbinger to choose to retire. It's been done a few times before."

"Do Tilma and Kodlak have any children?" Aerenwen asked curiously.

"Two daughters and a son," Aela replied. "They don't visit often, having lives of their own now, but they grew up at Jorrvaskr. Balimund is the eldest. He's a blacksmith who runs his business out of Riften, actually, trained by Eorlund himself. Hillevi, the eldest daughter, married into the influential Cruel-Sea clan of Windhelm. They've a son and a daughter, though the daughter was killed during the summer. Bandits, I was told, though Kodlak and Tilma have been fairly quiet about the whole thing. Then there's Una, the youngest. She's a servant at the Blue Palace in Solitude."

"Is that something you would want?" Aerenwen asked quietly. "The whole altar of Mara thing you mentioned, a family?"

Aela was silent for a few moments before answering. "Honestly, I never thought I would. I didn't see myself wanting to settle down with anyone, but the only experience I had with that was watching my mother and father. Of course, they never found happiness because Pa wanted Ma to be something she wasn't. With you, I can see it. And actually catch myself thinking about it. You and I are cut from the same cloth, Ren, so I know you would never expect me to live a life I wasn't happy with, nor would I expect that from you. With you and Hamish . . . the damn fox . . . maybe other children who need a home if the time comes . . . I can see it. And it makes my heart happy to think about."

"Even with the difference in our aging?" Aerenwen pressed. "Right now, we're similar in age, but as the years progress, you know you will age faster than I will. I'll still be able to go out fighting when age has slowed you down."

"Does that bother you?" Aela asked with a frown.

"The thought of watching you die, of being left here without you afterward, yes, that bothers me," Aerenwen answered honestly, "but only because I've quickly come to already detest the idea of a life without you even if that ends up being the outcome."

"The way I see it," Aela replied, "with the lives we lead, who knows if either of us will live to old age, anyway. My mother didn't. My grandmother didn't. We'll meet our ends when fate sees fit, and if fate really has brought us together, which I truly believe it has, then perhaps our ends won't be so far apart after all."

Aerenwen kissed the other woman deeply after that and smiled, resting over the Nord, supporting her weight on her elbows and knees. "I take it the 'for now' period of our relationship is over."

Aela smirked but quickly grew serious again as she looked into the eyes of the elf who had stolen her heart. "I'm falling in love with you, Aerenwen, quickly and completely. I can't deny it, and I won't fight it. I am yours."

"And I am yours, Aela," the elf replied as they pulled each other closer for another kiss.


	15. The Greybeards

Chapter Seven: The Greybeards (Loredas, 13th of Hearthfire; Sundas, 14th of Hearthfire; Morndas, 15th of Hearthfire)

The journey up the 7000 steps had not been an easy one. Of course, it wasn't actually 7000 steps, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but the stone steps carved into the side of the Throat of the World weaved up and around the immense mountain.

She'd said goodbye to Aela shortly after sunrise at the bridge separating Ivarstead from the mountain. Her lover had promised to come looking for her if she hadn't returned by Tirdas morning whether the elf liked it or not.

The journey had taken much of the day and was treacherous. The begining part wasn't horrible. Aside from a few wolves she needed to fend off, the air was warm and the views magnificent. As she climbed in elevation, however, snow covered the mountainside, the air became frigid, and the wind that blew cut through her fur cloak and interfered with her visibility. There were some points, during particularly brutal gusts of wind and snow squalls where Aerenwen could barely see a few feet ahead. Also with the increased elevation and decreased temperature came frostbite spiders, ice wraiths, and ice wolves, none of whom were easy opponents. She did, however, thank the gods for whomever had taken out the frost troll previously. It lay alongside the path, scorched and scavenged, obviously having been there for some time but not decaying because of the extreme cold. She could handle a troll, of course, but she was in a hurry to reach High Hrothgar and get this over with as quickly as possible. She was anxious to get to Riften now to look for Nesta, and she really wanted to avoid Aela taking this trip to seek her out if things took longer than planned.

Along the path up the mountain were several carved stone emblems set into ornate monuments. Pilgrims placed offerings at them and meditated on the words. Though Aerenwen saw no need for any meditation, she did read them all and gleaned a bit of history from them regarding the Greybeards, the Nords' relationship with the ancient dragons, and this Way of the Voice. There were ten tablets, in total, once she'd reached the top, and they read as follows:

 _Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus. Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs. For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land._

 _Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus. The Dragons presided over the crawling masses. Men were weak then and had no voice._

 _The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times. Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices, but the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts._

 _Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man. Together they taught Men to use the Voice. Then the Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue._

 _Man prevailed, shouted Alduin out of the world. Proving for all that their Voice, too, was strong, although their sacrifices were many-fold._

 _With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer, founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World._

 _The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled. Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Meditation to understand how Strong Voices could fail._

 _Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned. The 17 disputants could not shout Him down. Jurgen the Calm built His home on the Throat of the World._

 _For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name. Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar. They blessed and named him Dovahkiin._

 _The Voice is worship. Follow the inner path. Speak only in True Need._

Along the path there was also an ornate altar to Talos, a massive stone statue of the Nordic warrior holding his battleaxe. Although, as an Altmer, Aerenwen had not been raised to believe the man truly had risen to the rank of a deity, she could not deny he was a man who was owed respect due to his great deeds and valor, and considering they seemed to share the Dragonblood, she stopped at the altar for a moment, asked for his guidance, and left a few pieces of gold in the offering bowl.

High Hrothgar was a great stone structure built into the side of the mountain, not quite at the peak. It resembled a fortress more than a monastery, but the thick stone walls and palisades were probably necessary against the high winds and heavy snow. The wind seemed to die down a bit as she approached, so she took a moment to rest before making her entrance, not really certain what she would find once inside.

Aerenwen sat down on a large boulder at the edge of the path and ate some of the food Aela had insisted she bring with her for the journey as she gazed out at Skyrim below. There were a few clouds in the sky, some even beneath her as she sat high atop the mountain, but surveying the landscape, she realized she had climbed around to the other side and was looking down on Whiterun, just a small mountain of buildings amidst the planes below. She could also make out the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow atop a mountain below her, and she chuckled to herself when she remembered how high and cold she thought it had been there. Even that appeared small to her from where she sat now.

Climbing the last of the steps, built into the side of the monastery, she approached one of two immense guilded doors and used the heavy bronze knocker hanging upon it to garner the attention of the monks inside. A short time later, the door opened, revealing an elderly man with a long white beard, wearing a gray hooded cloak. He spoke not a word but gestured for her to follow him. As he led her into the dimly lit monastery, the heavy door closed with an echoing slam behind them.

Aerenwen was led into a large, central room. Carved stone dragons adorned the walls, and the space was lit by braziers around its edges. A large fire burned in a tall stone structure toward the back of the room, and the heat emanating from it, warmed the elf after her long journey.

Another hooded man with a beard, who looked very similar to the first, approached her from the shadows, but unlike the first monk, he spoke.

"So . . . a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age," he stated solemnly, looking Aerenwen over from head to toe.

"You call me Dragonborn, as have others before you," Aerenwen replied. "What does that mean?"

"First, let us see if you truly are Dragonborn," he replied. "Let us taste of your Voice."

Aerenwen took a deep breath and focused just as she had at the watchtower outside of Whiterun that day, the only time she had actually attempted to Shout, as the guards had called it. It wasn't long before she felt the power rising within her, and that same deep, echoing voice escaped from her lips. "Fus!"

The monk actually smiled a bit after regaining his balance. The force from Aerenwen's shout had caused him to stumble slightly. "Dragonborn, it is you," he stated, his voice full of awe. "Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now, tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

"I want to find out what it means to be Dragonborn," Aerenwen replied honestly. "I am not a Nord. I know little of your people's traditions and beliefs. I had never even heard the term Dragonborn before killing the dragon outside Whiterun. The guards called me Dragonborn, and the Jarl told me you would have answers for me. I have come to receive those answers."

"We are here to help guide you in your pursuit of those answers," Arngeir answered, "just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you."

"Is this common?" Aerenwen asked.

Arngeir shook his head. "It is not. Though you are certainly not the first. There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind. Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age . . . that is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far, and the first in many years. That is all I can say."

"So what next?" Aerenwen wondered. She found the three silent monks behind Arngeir to be a bit off-putting and wondered if they ever spoke.

"You have shown that you are Dragonborn," Arngeir answered. "You have the inborn gift. The question is, do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen." He walked toward the center of the room, standing before the large stone fire pit. "Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu'um, a Shout. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn. When you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power."

"Words of Power?" Aerenwen questioned. "Are those the words I have been somehow reading on the stone walls in burial chambers?"

Arngeir nodded. "The ancient Nord dragonpriests commissioned the walls to be built within tombs of great men and atop mountains that were homes to dragons. Their use has been forgotten over time, and only a Dragonborn can unlock the power within them. All Shouts are made up of three Words of Power. As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger. You have learned the first word of the Unrelenting Force Shout, a shout with such force it can clear the path before you of trees, beasts, men, buildings. By absorbing the soul of the dragon you slew, you were able to access the dragon's knowledge and understanding of Fus. Common men would have to meditate upon the Word and its meaning for years in order to Shout it. With your inborn ability to tap into the souls of dragons, you are able to master these instantly. Without the souls, however, any Words of Power you read upon the walls would be useless to you, despite knowing what they say. You gain the knowledge from the Word Walls. You gain the understanding from the dragons. Do you understand?"

Aerenwen nodded. "I believe so. It makes sense based upon what I have experienced thus far."

"Very good," the old monk answered. "Now, it is late. You have journeyed far up the steps. Master Einarth will show you to where you will sleep, and we will begin the first steps of your training in the morning."

Aerenwen wished to ask more questions, but she was, indeed, tired after her long climb, and she knew she wouldn't get all of her answers in one night. She followed Einarth up some stone stairs and down a narrow hallway to an area with several beds. The silent monk motioned to a fifth bed, set aside a bit from the other four, and she took that to mean she could sleep in it.

The elf removed the heavier pieces of her armor and tucked her sword beneath her pillow. She still felt chilled from the cold, but the fortress was surprisingly warm, and the furs upon the bed helped as well. She missed Aela's body heat and her voice and wondered how she was passing her time in Ivarstead. Her last thoughts were of her love's beautiful silver-green eyes gazing at her from beneath her warpaint as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

After being fed breakfast by another silent monk, the same who had opened the door for her the evening before, Aerenwen was once again led to the center room of the monastery.

"Good morning, Dragonborn," Arngeir greeted. "I trust you rested well."

"I did," she replied politely. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"We spoke of Fus yesterday," the monk stated, getting right down to business. "Master Einarth will now teach you Ro, the second Word in Unrelenting Force."

The monk who had led her to the bed chambers the night before stepped into the center of the room and closed his eyes in concentration.

"Ro means 'balance' in the dragon tongue," Arngeir continued. "Combine it with Fus - 'force' - to focus your Thu-um more sharply."

Einarth waved his hand and whispered a shout, and a word, similar to the words upon the walls, appeared etched into the floor before him. Aerenwen approached it and felt the same sensation she had upon approaching the dragon walls within the tombs. She could then read the word, despite it's foreign language. Ro.

Arngeir had watched the process and smiled in astonishment. "You learn a new word like a master," he stated. "You truly do have the gift. But, as I said last night, learning a Word of Power is only the first step. You must unlock its meaning through constant practice and meditation in order to use it in a Shout." He chuckled to himself. "Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain dragon's life force and knowledge directly. As part of your training, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of Ro."

Einarth approached Aerenwen and stood before her, closing his eyes and pressing his hands together as if in prayer. He bent forward slightly, and a golden light began to flow from him into Aerenwen. She felt as she had when the dragon had died, though slightly less overwhelmed. And she found she understood Ro.

"Now," Arngeir spoke, pulling her from her thoughts, "let us see how quickly you master your new Thu-um." He motioned toward a pillar on the opposite side of the room. "Use your Unrelenting Force Shout to strike the targets as they appear."

Another one of the silent monks shouted unfamiliar words toward the pillar, and a ghost-like apparition of a monk appeared before it. Aerenwen focused and shouted . . . Fus Ro! The apparition was knocked away and disappeared.

"Well done," Arngeir stated with pride. "Again!"

Twice more Aerenwen repeated the Shout, knocking the apparition the monk created away.

"Impressive," the old monk complimented. "Your Thu'um is precise. You show great promise, Dragonborn. We are finished for this morning. We will perform your next trial in the courtyard after our noon meal. In the meantime, you may have access to any tomes in our library. We own a great deal of works on the history of Dragons and The Way of the Voice."

Aerenwen took the time to read a biography on Jurgen Windcaller, recognizing the name from the emblems on the path and wondering just who he was. Aerenwen discovered he had been a great Nord chieftain during the First Era and was the founder of the Greybeards. During the War of Succession, Jurgen had fought with his fellow Nords against the Dwemer and Chimer and, despite his use of the Voice, faced a great defeat at the Battle of Red Mountain. The armies were annihilated, and those remaining were forced to flee Morrowind and return to Skyrim. Jurgen had disappeared for seven years for what was now known as his Seven Year Meditation, during which time he pondered the meaning of their defeat and the failure of his Voice. He came to the conclusion that the gods were punishing the Nords for their arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice they had been given. He became a pacifist and developed The Way of the Voice, a sort of religion that preached the Thu'um should only be used as a method to worship the gods rather than as a form of warfare. Because of this, he became known as Jurgen the Calm. His philosophy prevailed, especially after a confrontation with seventeen militant Tongues. According to legend, the confrontation lasted for three days during which Jurgen somehow swallowed the Shouts of his opponents after which, they lay exhausted and became his disciples. Thus, the Greybeards were born. Jurgen commissioned the building of High Hrothgar as a sanctuary for his followers to meditate and perfect their voices.

Aerenwen was never really one for strong religious beliefs, and she felt, as had Jurgen's opponents, the Thu'um was too great a weapon to not be used. As far as she was concerned, Jurgen the Calm took his defeat a bit too hard and acted in the extreme afterward. But to each their own, and if these peaceful Greybeards could teach her more and answer her questions, she would remain silent in regards to her opinions on the matter.

She was interrupted from further thinking or continuing her reading by one of the silent monks bringing her a plate of cheese, dried fruit, and pickled herring. After eating, she was led to the back of the monastery and out a set of ornate doors to the courtyard where she was once again consumed by the frigid air.

The rest of the Greybeards were gathered there, and she was greeted by Arngeir who, like earlier, was quick to get to business.

"We will now see how you learn a completely new Shout," Arngeir stated. "Master Borri will teach you 'Wuld', which means 'Whirlwind'."

Aerenwen followed the same process as earlier, absorbing the word Borri etched into the stone on the ground.

"You must hear the Word within yourself before you can project it into a Thu'um," Arngeir stated, and Aerenwen absorbed Borri's knowledge of Wuld.

"Now we will see how quickly you master a new Shout," Arngeir repeated.

Borri approached a gate at the far end of the courtyard and another monk stood in the center of the courtyard facing the gate.

"Master Wulfgar will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint," Arngeir explained. "Observe. Then it will be your turn."

The monk that stood in the center of the courtyard waited for Borri to open the gate, then Shouted. He disappeared in a flash of movement, too quick to see, and appeared at the opposite side of the gate.

Aerenwen followed his lead. When Borri opened the gate again, Aerenwen focused on the word Wuld and suddenly found herself standing beside Wulfgar across the courtyard from the others. They walked together back to Arngeir, who stood in obvious astonishment.

"Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is . . . astonishing," he commented. "I'd heard stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself . . ."

"I take it it's not this easy for everyone," Aerenwen replied.

Arngeir chuckled and shook his head. "No. Indeed not. But beware that your skill does not outstrip your wisdom. You are now ready for your last trial. Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return. Rest here again, and tomorrow morning before you leave, I shall answer any further questions you may have to the best of my ability."

* * *

The next morning Aerenwen stood before the entrance to High Hrothgar, the group of monks standing between her and the interior of the monastery.

"Do you have any questions before you leave us to continue your trial, Dragonborn?" Arngeir asked.

"How did humans come to learn the language of dragons?" she asked.

"In mythic times, when mortalkind was in great need, the goddess Kynareth granted us the ability to speak as dragons do," Arngeir replied. "For most people, long years of training are required to learn even the simplest Shout. But for you, the dragon speech is in your blood, and you learn it almost without effort."

"There are only four of you?"

"Five," he answered. "Our leader, Paarthurnax, lives alone on the peak of the Throat of the World. When your voice can open the path, you will know you are ready to speak to him."

Aerenwen recognized the name as having been one she read on the emblems as she climbed the mountain. She assumed he had either been named after the historical figure or took the name himself out of respect.

"Who was Jurgen Windcaller?" she asked. Although she'd read of him the day before, she wished to hear what the old monk had to say about their founder.

"He was a great war leader of the ancient Nords, a master of the Voice, or Tongue," Arngeir replied. "After the disaster at Red Mountain, where the Nord army was annihilated, he spent many years pondering the meaning of that terrible defeat. He finally came to realize that the gods had punished the Nords for their arrogance and misuse of the Voice. He was the first to understand that the Voice should be used solely for the glory and worship of the gods, not the glory of men. Jurgen the Calm's mastery of the Voice eventually overcame all opposition, and the Way of the Voice was born."

"Why are the dragons returning?" Aerenwen asked. "Does it have something to do with me being Dragonborn?"

"No doubt the appearance of a Dragonborn at this time is not an accident," the old monk replied. "Your destiny is surely bound up with the return of the dragons, but as to why they are returning, I cannot answer that. You should focus on honing your Voice, and soon your path will be made clear."

To Aerenwen, that answer seemed evasive. "Surely there is more you can tell me."

"There is indeed much that we know that you do not," Arngeir replied. "That does not mean that you are ready to understand it."

And that was exactly why Aerenwen had little use for religious zealots. Their condescension and unwillingness to share what they knew with those they deemed 'unready' was infuriating.

"Do not let your easy mastery of the Voice tempt you into the arrogance of power that has been the downfall of many Dragonborn before you," Arngeir warned.

"I understand that I am Dragonborn because, somehow, I was born with dragon blood," Aerenwen stated. "Though how an Altmer in the Summerset Isles was chosen by fate to be a Dragonborn is still something I cannot grasp. But what exactly does it mean to be a Dragonborn, Master Arngeir? What am I to do with this power that has been given to me?"

"Dragons have the inborn ability to learn and project their voice," Arngeir replied. "Dragons also are able to absorb the power of their slain brethren. A few mortals are born with similar abilities . . . whether a gift or a curse has been a matter of debate down through the centuries nor does anyone understand why those who are born with the dragon blood are chosen. The fact remains, what you have already learned in just two days time took even the most gifted of us years to achieve. Some believe that Dragonborn are sent into the world by the gods at times of great need. We will speak more of that later, when you are ready."

"Tell me about your order."

"We study the Way of the Voice according to the teachings of Jurgen the Calm, our founder," Arngeir replied. "Very few are permitted to study with us here at High Hrothgar, but, in your case, Dragonborn, it is a privilege to guide you towards mastery of your Voice."

"What exactly do you study when studying the Way of the Voice?" she asked.

"The Voice was a gift of the goddess Kynareth at the dawn of time," he replied. "She gave mortals the ability to speak as dragons do. Although this gift has often been misused, the only true use of the Voice is for the worship and glory of the gods. True mastery of the Voice can only be achieved when your inner spirit is in harmony with your outward actions. In the contemplation of the sky, Kynareth's domain, and the practice of the Voice, we strive to achieve this balance."

"Why don't the others ever talk?" she wondered, glancing at the other three monks behind him.

"Their voices are too powerful for anyone not trained in the Way to understand. Even a whisper could kill you," Arngeir answered with a slight smile. "Now, if you have no further questions at this time, we must return to our meditations."

"One final question," Aerenwen stated. "Did you train Ulfric Stormcloak in the Thu'um?"

Arngeir nodded with a frown. "Ulfric fooled us with his charm. We believed he wished to follow the Way of the Voice and spread our teachings to his hold. He showed great promise and stayed with us for nearly two years receiving our tutelage. Unfortunately, as soon he mastered Unrelenting Shout to his satisfaction, his true intentions came known. He is an example of those who are not pure in their quest for mastery of the Thu'um and are easily swayed down dark paths by their lust for power. Safe travels, Dragonborn. Wind guide you."


	16. Reunions

Chapter Eight: Reunions (Loredas, 13th of Hearthfire; Sundas, 14th of Hearthfire; Morndas, 15th of Hearthfire)

While Aerenwen was visiting with the monks, Aela attempted to keep herself busy around Ivarstead. It was a difficult task in the slow, little town, but she knew if she just waited at the inn, she would drive herself mad with worry. Dating a fellow warrior certainly made it easier in some ways. They understood each other and their chosen way of life. But what wasn't easier was watching her love go off on her own, or with someone else, into potentially dangerous situations, when she wanted to be the one to always have her back. Yet Aela knew this was a situation they would both be faced with from time to time, and she would have to get used to it.

The residents of Ivarstead were, for the most part, suspicious and resentful toward visitors and indifferent toward the Greybeards. Word soon spread, however, that Aela was the famed Aela the Huntress of the Companions, and they were a bit more welcoming toward her.

She split some wood for the bitter owner of the lumbermill who hated that she was stuck in that small town and despised the bears who were wreaking havoc on the trees. She helped with some harvesting at the town's only farm, attempting to ignore the bickering between the husband and wife and a sticky situation involving the daughter's indecisiveness on lovers. She explored the burrow Aerenwen's sister had cleared and was impressed by her skill and thoroughness. And she took care of a trio of bears in a cave near the base of the steps up the mountain. But that was all within the first day. She had no idea how she would pass the remaining days.

Each evening she sat on the stone edge of the bridge at the edge of town, awaiting Aerenwen's return. She'd been told by the villagers it took a full day to climb to the top, and Aela felt that Aerenwen would probably strike off in the morning as she had the day she had left. The first night, although she knew the elf wouldn't return so soon, she sat there until well after dark, finally returning to the inn when the moons were high in the sky.

Sundas was a busy day for the inn, as most of the townsfolk took the day off from their work, but it was a boring day for Aela. She tired quickly of smalltalk with strangers, and she had just come to the decision that she would strike off for some hunting when a familiar Altmer woman entered the inn.

This woman resembled Aerenwen, just as Mari had. Like Mari, this woman was blonde, though her blonde hair had a golden hue to it. She was thinner, like Mari, but more muscular, like Aerenwen. Though she didn't looked identical to either, she was resembled them each enough to have caught Aela's attention. She wore trousers and knee-high boots, leather gloves, and a leather-armored vest over a long-sleeve hooded shirt. A dagger was strapped to her vest, and she wore a bow and quiver of arrows on her back.

"Nesta!" the inn's bard greeted excitedly, rushing toward her and embracing her in a friendly hug.

The two women spoke for a short time. Though they probably weren't speaking especially quietly, because of the din around the tavern, Aela couldn't hear what was being said. But when both their eyes fell on her, she knew Lynnly had told the woman who she was.

Nesta approached her table, a wicked smile on her face. "What's this I hear about you shacking up with my big sister?" she teased, making herself comfortable on the bench across the table from Aela.

The Huntress chuckled. "I'm not certain I would call it 'shacking up'."

Nesta raised a blonde eyebrow. "I have it on good authority you two chose to share a room with one bed when there were other accomodations available."

"And is it entirely inconceivable that two shield-sisters would rather the safety of staying together in a strange place than sleeping separately and, therefore, being more vulnerable?" Aela asked with a smirk. She could already tell Nesta was the type to cut straight to the chase and seemed to have a wicked sense of humor about her.

"When one of those shield-sisters is my sister Aerenwen, then yes," Nesta answered with a grin. "She's far too private to share a bedroom with just anyone unless absolutely necessary."

Aela nodded. She'd give her that.

Nesta extended her gloved hand across the table. "I'm Nesta."

"Aela," the Nord replied, receiving her handshake.

"The Huntress, I'm told," Nesta teased. "Although, I have to say, were I your prey, I'd probably lie right down for you without much of a fight."

Aela laughed outright at that. "Are you flirting with your sister's partner?"

Nesta shrugged with a smirk. "I flirt with everyone. Now, by partner, do you mean business partner or . . . "

"Would both be an adequate answer for you?" Aela wondered.

Nesta's smile widened. "Truly? You guys are . . . ?"

Aela nodded.

Nesta laughed and clapped her hand down on the table. "Of course the one of us who had no interest in a romantic relationship would be the first to find it when we arrived in Skyrim."

"Have you encountered more of your siblings?" Aela asked.

"Just Elain," Nesta replied with a frown. "I was recently in Windhelm for business. She's living there. She's a Thane and everything, although she hates that pompous prick Stormcloak, but I guess she impressed him by solving a murder spree, so he gave her a title and quite the extravagent house in the city even though she wouldn't pledge her services to his cause."

"And I gather your business in Windhelm had something to do with the Thieves' Guild," Aela commented.

Nesta put on a far-too innocent expression. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your armor speaks otherwise," the Nord answered with a smirk, having recognized Nesta's Thieves' Guild armor the moment she walked through the door.

Nesta smirked. "You're too smart for my own good," she chuckled. Then turned serious. "Will that be a problem?"

Aela shrugged. "I'm not one to judge a person on how they're putting food on the table and keeping a roof over their heads," she replied. "Thievery isn't a choice I would make for myself, but I won't look down upon you for doing so. In my opinion, the Guild is quite civilized amongst thieves, and I find honor in the fact that you go out of your way to spare the lives of your marks."

Nesta smiled. "We get kicked out if we kill someone," she stated. "I like that. I've gotten into plenty of trouble in my time, but I've never taken an innocent life. I don't intend to start now." She looked down at the table and stared at her folded hands for a moment. "Do you think Aerenwen will be disappointed in me?"

The Nord shook her head. "I think, first and foremost, she is going to be thrilled you are alive and well. She's worried immensely for all of you. I don't have to tell you that she sees herself as partially responsible for the rest of you, and knowing you're not out in the streets, cold and hungry, will be all she cares about."

Nesta smiled.

"And, in truth, we discussed it," Aela continued.

Nesta looked surprised.

"When we discovered you'd gone to Riften, I warned her that, given your skillset, you would be an excellent candidate for recruitment into the Guild. She seemed okay with it as long as you were happy and well."

Nesta let out an audible sigh of relief. "So, where is my slightly overbearing but wonderful sister?"

"High Hrothgar," Aela replied.

Nesta's amber eyes widened. "What on Nirn is she doing there?"

"She has business with the Greybeards," Aela replied. When it was clear the other woman was going to press for more information, she continued. "That's all you're going to get out of me. It's her story to tell."

"Alright. Fair enough," Nesta replied. "I suppose I'll linger here until she gets back. Any idea on when that might be?"

"I'm not sure," Aela answered. "Though I warned her if she wasn't back by Tirdas morning, I would be climbing those steps looking for her."

Nesta laughed. "I think Aerenwen may have met her match with you." She stood then, leaving a few gold pieces on the table as a tip for Lynnly although she hadn't eaten or drank anything while there. "Come on then. I need to go check in on Narfi, and you're coming with. I need to get to know my future sister-in-law, after all."

Aela laughed in surprise. "How do you know we're that serious?"

"Please," Nesta replied with a scoff. "Aerenwen doesn't involve herself in anything she isn't serious about. You, my dear, are in for the long haul whether you realize it yet or not."

Aela smiled. "I think I can probably handle that."

* * *

Aela found that she thoroughly enjoyed the company of Aerenwen's sister. She had a dry whit and outgoingness about her that endeared her to anyone she came in contact with as well as a quick-working mind. The woman definitely had the makings for success as a thief or con-artist.

That night, Aela, again, perched herself on the edge of the bridge, and once again, she remained there until the moons were high in the sky, although this time it was because Nesta came and dragged her back to the inn.

The next day was, again, spent with Nesta. She had been relieved to hear that they had encountered Mari in Falkreath and that she was well.

"That's four out of six," she had commented. "Just leaves Steffen and Glenys, and unfortunately, they're the two I worry about the most."

"Why is that?"

"Both are smart and have their talents, but neither is very good at defending themselves," Nesta replied. "Elain, Mari, and I . . . we are nothing like the warrior that Aerenwen is, but we can look after ourselves pretty well. Elain and I are trained archers, and Mari is quite proficient in destruction magic. I'm not sure Steffen or Glenys have ever attempted to wield a weapon of any sort."

That evening, Aela resumed her vigil at the bridge, ever watchful eyes focused on the stone steps as the light began to fade. Just as twilight set in, a figure appeared, descending toward the village. The closer to the ground it came, the more familiar it looked.

Aela stood and waited at the end of the bridge with a smile.

"Hello, beautiful," Aerenwen said with a tired smile. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

"What did those Greybeards do to you?" Aela asked with a frown. "You look exhausted."

Aerenwen just chuckled and embraced Aela, holding her tightly for a few moments and burying her face in her hair. "Gods, I missed you."

"And I missed you," Aela replied. "In fact, if it weren't for a surprise visitor, I would have gone completely mad down in this boring little town waiting for you."

Aerenwen raised her eyebrow in question.

"Come on, back to the inn with you," Aela ordered, tugging on her hand. "You need food and rest, and I can't wait for you to see who I've spent the last two days with."

* * *

Aerenwen laughed loudly at something Nesta had just said, although Aela had no idea what it was. She was lost in thought as she gazed adoringly at the woman she loved. Seeing her happy and loosened up around Mari had been nice as well, but it was clear that Nesta and Aerenwen had a closer bond than she did with her other sister. They weren't just sisters. They were best friends. It was obvious.

"So Dragonborn, huh?" Nesta said with a whistle when Aerenwen had told her why she was visiting the Greybeards. "I have absolutely no clue what that means."

Aerenwen laughed. "Neither did I." She went on to explain to Nesta about the word walls in the barrows and what had happened when she'd killed the dragon outside of Whiterun. "Aela and the Jarl both tried to explain what a Dragonborn was, but it's been so long since there has been one, it's a thing of legend now, and people don't really know much about it except that we can shout and absorb a dragon's soul. I was told the Greybeards were the only ones who could answer my questions, and so here I am."

"And did they answer your questions?" Aela asked, not having had the time to find out exactly what had transpired at High Hrothgar once the two sisters had seen each other again.

"For the most part," Aerenwen replied. "Basically, the Thu'um, or shout, is in the dragon language because it's how they've always communicated. As I discovered from the Jarl's wizard in Whiterun, the dragons were worshipped as gods in ancient Skyrim, but their priests became corrupted by power, and the Nords sought to overthrow the dragons and their priests. They learned the Thu'um, and most believe it was a gift from the goddess Kynareth to aid them in the Dragon War. Since, it's an ability that man has possessed but generally takes years and years of training to even partially master. According to the Greybeards, what I just did in two days, took Ulfric Stormcloak nearly two years to accomplish, and that's the norm. Apparently, every so often, a mortal is born with dragon blood. They don't know why or how that mortal is chosen, but because they are, essentially, a kin to the dragons, they are born with the ability to absorb the knowledge of slain dragons and master a Thu'um almost instantly, just as dragons do. Usually their appearance coincides with some important historical event. Here, probably the return of the dragons, though the why is still unanswered."

"You think this has anything to do with all of Nan's talk of dragons?" Nesta asked.

"Possibly," Aerenwen replied, then she explained to Aela. "Our grandmother was basically obsessed with legends of dragons. She told us stories, collected relics. She was even convinced that the dragons would return someday. We always thought it was odd, being that dragons were long gone and even when they'd been alive, they hadn't been native to the islands."

"What did you do up there?" Aela asked.

"They taught me more shouts," Aerenwen answered, "and explained how it works. Basically first I gain the knowledge of the Thu'um through reading them on the ancient word walls, then I gain the understanding by absorbing the knowledge of a slain dragon. I can read as many word walls as I want, and I'll know what they say, but I won't understand what they mean or how to utilize the Thu'um until I absorb that knowledge. To prove my worthiness, I'm supposed to go retrieve some horn from a burial chamber. The horn of Jurgen Windcaller in a place called Ustengrav."

"I know where that is," Aela replied. "To the north. Just south of Morthal. I'm going with you."

Aerenwen chuckled and squeezed Aela's hand, knowing her undertaking this alone had been a lot for the other woman. She couldn't blame her. She knew she'd feel the same way if Aela went off into unknown danger alone.

"There's one of those word walls inside Shroud Hearth Barrow," Nesta interjected. "I saw it when I cleaned the tomb out, but I had no idea what it was. I can take you there tomorrow."

Aerenwen smiled and thanked her. "Then I suppose we'll have to go our separate ways again."

Nesta smiled sadly. "Fate has taken us all in different directions, sister, and in a way, I hate it, but I know it's necessary. Our paths brought us to Skyrim together, but they diverged before we arrived, and I don't think that was an accident. The universe has big plans for us, I think, and my journey begins in Riften while yours is in Whiterun. But we can write often, and visit. You can bet as soon as I am able, I will be coming to Whiterun to see your home and meet my new nephew."

Aerenwen smiled. "And I wish to come see Riften as well."

Nesta chuckled. "Wait until I get in good with the Jarl," she replied. "The Ratway isn't any home to boast about, and I'm after a title like you and Elain have gotten. That's why I'm passing through, actually. Jarl Laila has a bounty out on some bandits nearby. I'm out to get that bounty and while I'm in audience with her, I hope to see if she'll let me look into the skooma trade in Riften. It's hurting a lot of good people, and the authorities can't catch a break. I suspect the dealers have eyes on the inside somewhere. I'm hoping to go undercover and shut it down and earn myself a Thaneship in the process, sorta like Elain did with those murders in Windhelm."

Her sister smiled. "Good luck with all that."

"I make my own luck," Nesta teased with a wink.

"What did you think of the Greybeards?" Aela asked.

Aerenwen shrugged. "They're a means to an end. All in all, they're a fanatical group practicing radical pacifism. They were started by this Jurgen Windcaller who reacted badly to a horrible defeat in a war against the Dwemer and Chimer in Morrowind. They preach that the use of the Thu'um should only be used to glorify and serve the gods and that any use of it in war to benefit mankind is blasphemous. I disagree, and I won't be following their beliefs, but as long as they have answers to the questions that come up as I pursue this, I'll continue dealing with them."


	17. Goodbyes and Hellos

Chapter Nine: Goodbyes and Hellos (Tirdas, 16th of Hearthfire)

The three women stood on the road outside Ivarstead, holding the reigns of their horses in their hands. Aerenwen had learned a new Thu'um, Ka'an, in the barrow, and now they were going their separate ways.

"Before we part," Nesta said nervously, "I have to tell you, I failed you. I was a coward."

"What on Nirn are you talking about?" Aerenwen asked.

Nesta looked up with tear-filled eyes. "After the skirmish we were caught in, I saw you had been captured. I tracked the wagons to Helgen and sat outside the city for some time trying to decide how I could get in and break you out by myself. When the dragon came . . . I panicked. I was terrified, and I ran, and I didn't stop until I had reached Ivarstead. I just left you there, at the mercy of that dragon, because I was frightenened."

"Ssshhh," Aerenwen cooed as she took her now sobbing sister into her arms. "Stop this nonsense. I was fine. I am fine. And the guards wouldn't have let you get close to the prisoners anyway. You wouldn't have been able to get to me even if the dragon hadn't come. And with the dragon . . . I can't say I wouldn't have done the same."

"Yes you can," Nesta replied. "You're always running into danger."

Aerenwen shrugged. "I'm a warrior, yes, but before Helgen, I don't know if even I would have gone running into a battle with a dragon. You didn't fail me, Nesta. Not in the slightest."

"I love you," her sister said with a smile, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"And I love you," Aerenwen answered. "I shall see you soon, I promise."

Nesta smiled and embraced her older sister once more. Then reached for Aela and embraced her as well. "I'm glad she has someone to look out for her now," she whispered. "She's always so concerned about looking out for everyone else, she's never really had that. Take care of her."

"Always," Aela replied. "See you soon, Nesta."

They watched as she mounted her horse and took off down the cobbled road in the opposite direction.

"I like her," Aela commented as they mounted their own horses.

"She's hard not to like," Aerenwen replied. "She and Elain are the two I was always closest to. We're all different, of course, but our interests were more in line with each other's than the other three. They liked their books, and we prefered adventure and action."

"We'll need to go to Windhelm to visit Elain soon," Aela stated. "Perhaps after we've retrieved this horn and checked in at Jorrvaskr to make sure we aren't needed."

Aerenwen nodded. "You'll like her as well, although Elain is different. Darker. Her moral fiber is even less tightly woven than Nesta's."

"Less tightly woven than a thief's?" Aela questioned with a chuckle.

Aerenwen nodded with a frown. "I love her dearly, and I will always stand by her. But that relief Nesta spoke of when she found out she wouldn't be expected to kill innocents in her work for the Guild? I'm not entirely certain Elain would have had that."

Aela glanced at her lover in surprise.

"She's not a murderer, by any means," Aerenwen explained. "I don't think she'd ever kill for pleasure or no reason. But I'm also not entirely sure her motivation to do so would always be pure."

"An assassin?" Aela asked.

"I could certainly see Elain excelling in that field," Aerenwen commented with a frown.

"Well, then, I suppose, for our own peace of mind, we should hope the Dark Brotherhood never catches wind of her skills."

* * *

It was close to dark when the Companions returned to Whiterun. They stabled their horses and entered the city gates. Business seemed as usual for the town. A few residents milled around the streets here and there and greeted the two women warmly. They stopped at Breezehome, and Aerenwen invited Aela in for a late dinner.

"I'm sure Hamish is already in bed, and Lydia would've eaten, but I, for one, am famished," Aerenwen stated as she sat her satchel down on the table beside the door.

Aela agreed and followed her into the house, warming her hands over the fire pit in the center of the room. The night air was beginning to have an autumnal feel to it, and although with her Nord blood, Aela was more equipped to deal with the cold than her elven mate, it still took some getting used to after the warm summer months.

"It's good to be home," Aerenwen stated with a sigh.

"It is," Aela agreed, sitting in one of the comfortable cushioned chairs beside the fire.

It warmed Aerenwen's heart to think that the other woman felt that comfortable in her home, and she found herself hoping that someday they would share it.

"Welcome home, my Thane," Lydia stated appearing at the doorway to her bedroom. "There is apple cabbage stew warming in the pot beside the fire. Is there anything else you need before I retire for the night?"

"No thank you, Lydia," Aerenwen replied. "Has Hamish been well?"

"He has," her housecarl replied. "That fox follows him everywhere he goes."

The elf smiled. "And you? Are you well?"

"I am," Lydia replied with a smile. "Thank you for asking. Good night, Thane, Huntress."

"Good night, Lydia," Aela replied with a smile.

The door closed, and the two women were left alone again.

"She seems happy with her unorthidox assignment," Aela commented.

"She is, I think," Aerenwen replied, ladling out some soup into a bowl for Aela and then getting herself one as well. "She's told me she only became a soldier because she had the skill for it, and it was a necessity. It really wasn't the life she wanted. She seems quite happy staying at home, guarding my house and watching over Hamish. I've told her I would hire on a nanny, but she was adamant against it."

"That's good," the other woman answered. "Hamish seems to really like her, and I know it gives you peace of mind that he's well cared for when you're away. And she makes a damn good stew."

Aerenwen chuckled and agreed.

"Do you want to strike off for Ustengrav in the morning if the Companions don't have work for us or wait? It would mean another couple of nights away. The tomb is much closer to Morthal than Whiterun, so it would make the most sense to get a room there."

"Let's take a day or two to recover from this trip," Aerenwen responded. "I'm in no hurry to bring the horn back. I suspect the Greybeards are going to keep their secrets for a time whether I show up with the horn immediately or not."

Aela nodded. "Perhaps, we could take Hamish on a picnic tomorrow if the weather is fare."

"I think that sounds nice," the other woman replied with a smile, pleased that her lover was just as eager to spend time with the boy as she was with her.

"I should be getting back to Jorrvaskr," Aela commented sadly as she placed her bowl aside and stood.

Aerenwen stood as well. "You could stay if you'd like."

Aela smiled and stepped closer, wrapping her arms around the elf's waist. "You know I would like to, but we've been seen returning to town. There would be talk if I didn't check in at the mead hall tonight, and we're not ready for that yet."

Aerenwen agreed and walked her to the door. They parted ways with a deep kiss, and the elf locked the door behind her. She doused the fire and the few candles and lanterns lit around the main room and ascended the narrow rickety stairway, peaking into the open door of Hamish's bedroom. The boy was sound asleep with the fox curled at his feet. She smiled and quietly approached him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. He looked very peaceful in his slumber with only the moonlight shining through the room's window illuminating his form.

She crossed the small loft and opened the doorway to her bedroom. The room was dark, but suddenly, she felt a presence.

"Your housecarl may make a damn good stew, but she could use some work on home security," a familiar voice commented from the shadows.

"By Akatosh, Elain," Aerenwen gasped. "You nearly frightened the life out of me." She quickly lit the lantern on the table in the corner, illuminating her sister.

Elain sat on the bed, legs crossed and looking quite comfortable, wearing a simple set of leather armor and a smirk on her face.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since last night," Elain replied with a smile. "I helped myself to some food earlier when Lydia and Hamish were out, but otherwise, I've sat right here awaiting your return."

Aerenwen shook her head and finally smiled, taking a seat beside her sister and embracing her. "How did you find me?"

"I was sent on a fool's errand by a daedric lord," Elain informed her with a chuckle. "While in Whiterun a few days ago, a woman I spoke with, Ysolde, a merchant?"

Aerenwen nodded to show she knew who her sister was referring to.

"She commented on how much I looked like an acquaintance of hers aside from my dark hair. After I finished up the business with Sanguine, I returned and asked around. It wasn't hard to find out the newest warrior in the Companion's ranks, the Jarl's new champion, and Thane of Whiterun was an Altmer woman named Aerenwen. A drunk at the inn told me where you lived, and I've been here ever since. I assumed you'd return sooner or later."

"Only you would greet a long lost sister by hiding out in her bedroom," Aerenwen replied with a chuckle.

Elain shrugged. "I was actually planning to come to Whiterun to look for you," she stated. "I ran into a friend of yours outside of Helgen and knew you had survived the dragon mess there. For a time, it was the only news of any of you I had received."

"A friend of mine?" Aerenwen asked.

"Ralof," Elain replied. "It was just after the attack. I arrived in Helgen only to discover it in ruins. They were in the midst of a clean up effort, and there were Thalmor present, so I stuck to the shadows around the town while I tried to plan my next move. Ralof was lurking in the shadows as well, and he also noted our resemblance, so he approached me. I ended up traveling with him and his party to Windhelm where I've made my home, at least for the time being."

"Yes, I just ran into Nesta in Ivarstead," Aerenwen explained. "She told me you solved some murders and were granted the title of Thane."

Elain smirked. "I think Ulfric nearly had an anneurism having to give a title to an Altmer, but the townsfolk think so highly of me, even the Nords, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter."

Aerenwen chuckled but then grew serious. "I found him . . . off putting."

"That's putting it mildly," Elain replied. "Now tell me, how did you go from being nearly executed by the Imperial Legion to becoming a Thane and a member of the reknowned Companions?"

After telling her tale and listening to more details of Elain's, Aerenwen changed out of her armor into a simple nightshirt and washed the war paint from around her eyes with the water in the basin on her dresser. She tossed a nightshirt to Elain who also changed. Aerenwen sat in a chair and slowly braided her long, red hair for sleeping. Elain did the same with her own black hair.

"Are you going to tell your housecarl you had an unexpected guest under her nose?" Elain asked as they pulled the furs back on the bed and crawled in beside each other.

"No," Aerenwen replied with a chuckle. "The fact is, there are very few people in this world who are as skilled as you are. I don't believe anyone else would have succeeded in sneaking into my home undetected, and it will just make her feel bad. Lydia is good at what she does, but you are better."

Elain smirked. "Why, sister, is that praise in my abilities?"

"You know I respect your abilities and think you're amazing," her older sister replied with a soft smile. "I just worry, as our mother did, as to what use you will put those abilities."

The dark haired elf chuckled and changed the subject. "Hamish is a sweet boy. I'm proud to call him family."

Aerenwen smiled. "I can't wait for you to actually meet him. You'll be the first of our family to do so. I found Mari in Falkreath, but she hasn't been to visit yet, and of course, you know of Nesta."

"Glenys is in Markarth," Elain commented. "While on my adventures for Sanguine, I literally bumped into her. She's also a Thane. Got involved in a bit of a political mess there but came out on top. She has a male friend. A kind-hearted warrior, so she's in good hands, and I've honestly never seen her so smitten. Much like you with that woman I heard you speaking with downstairs."

Aerenwen laughed. "I can't wait for you to meet Aela as well." She was silent, relishing in the fact that her previously unaccounted for sister was safe and in good hands. "So that just leaves Steffen."

Elain nodded. "I haven't heard anything about him."

"There's a Bard's College in Solitude," Aerenwen told her. "You know he would have been thrilled at the thought of being able to pursue a living with his lute. Da never wanted him to."

"I'll look into it," Elain decided. "First, I'm going to swing through Falkreath to see Mari."

"I'm really glad you're here," Aerenwen said with a smile, holding her sister's hand beneath her blanket.

"Me too," Elain replied.


	18. Nursing Love

Chapter Ten: Nursing Love (Middas, 17th of Hearthfire; Turdas, 18th of Hearthfire; Fridas, 19th of Hearthfire; Loredas, 20th of Hearthfire; Sundas, 21st of Hearthfire)

"And this is Jorrvaskr, mead hall of the Companions," Aerenwen stated, leading her sister into the final stop of her Whiterun tour.

Their arrival drew the attention of those gathered around the room. Aerenwen spotted Aela and Farkas sitting at a table in a corner, and she headed in their direction.

"Little Ren, who's this?" Farkas asked with a smile.

"This, Farkas, is my sister, Elain," she replied. "Elain, these are my dear friends and fellow Companions, Farkas and Aela."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the dark haired elf replied, shaking both their hands. She winked at Aela with a smirk, knowing exactly who she was to her sister but also having been told they were being discreet amongst their fellow Companions until Aerenwen had earned her own spot within the Circle.

"You as well," Aela replied, looking at Aerenwen in surprise. "When did you arrive in Whiterun?"

"A few days ago," she answered, glancing around the ornately decorated mead hall.

"Elain surprised me last night after I'd arrived home," Aerenwen explained, leaving the finer details of the encounter out. "She was passing through Whiterun a few days ago and heard something that made her think I might be here, so she returned when she'd finished her errand and found me."

"That's great," Farkas commented. "I know Little Ren has been worried about you all. I can't imagine what it would be like to not know where my brother was, let alone if he were alive or not."

"We were hoping the two of you would join us on a little journey outside the city walls," Aerenwen told her friends. "Elain is in possession of a treasure map, and Hamish is quite excited to go treasure hunting. We thought we'd make an excursion out of it and have that picnic you suggested as well."

Aela smiled, eager to know another of her love's siblings and pleased they were including Farkas.

As the four made their way back to Aerenwen's home, Elain tucked her arm into Farkas' and led him ahead, asking him questions about the city and its residents.

"So this is a surprise," Aela commented, nudging Aerenwen with her shoulder as they walked. "You knew she was okay from Nesta, but to see it with your own eyes must make you feel good."

"It does," Aerenwen replied. "And Elain encountered Glenys in Markarth," she told her, "so that just leaves Steffen."

"We'll find him, love," Aela assured her.

* * *

"So where is this tomb you have to go to to get that horn thing for those monks?" Elain asked later as the group picnicked on the mountainside outside of Whiterun.

They'd found the treasure right where the bandit's maps had said it would be, and Hamish had found the entire affair extremely exciting. Now he and Farkas were play sword-fighting with some sticks nearby while the women sat atop the blanket enjoying the late summer sunshine.

"Ustengrav," Aela replied. "It's to the northwest of here, situated near the marshes south of Morthal."

"How long of a journey will it be?" Elain wondered.

"A few days," the huntress answered. "Morthal is about a half day's ride on horseback. We'll leave one day and reserve a room at the inn, then take a second day to explore the tomb, returning home on the third day, I'd imagine."

Elain nodded. "When are you leaving?"

"Probably the first of next week," Aerenwen replied. "Aela has an assignment for the Companions that will take her out of town for a few days, and I'll probably pick up some small local jobs in the area, so I can spend some time with Hamish. After you leave, I may take him to visit our friends in Riverwood, so he can stay there for this trip. It would be a nice change for him, and I know we won't see them as often once winter comes. How long are you staying, sister?"

"Well, I was thinking," Elain replied, "if you're not leaving for a few days, that I'd leave tomorrow to head back to Windhelm and check my affairs there, get my horse, then swing by Falkreath for the weekend to see Mari, and then I could accompany you ladies to this Ustengrav on my way to Solitude to look into the Bards College to see if Steffen is there. That is if you don't mind me tagging along."

Aerenwen glanced at Aela to make sure she was okay with it, and the Nord smiled at her. "Not at all," she told her sister. "It would be nice to adventure with you again."

"If you're as good with that bow as your sister claims you are, you're absolutely welcome," Aela teased.

Elain definitely had a different air about her than her other sisters. Aela could sense the darkness to which Aerenwen had referred to, but she didn't find it off-putting nor did she think the elf would ever let any harm come the way of her sister and her loved ones. Although Nesta and Mari had resembled Aerenwen, Elain looked so similar to her it was almost startling. Aside from her black hair, they could be mistaken for twins, even having a similar height and build, though Elain's muscles were leaner than her sister's.

"Great, sounds like a plan," Elain commented.

"Aunty Elain, come see the bird's nest we found!" Hamish called out, having already taken to his foster mother's sister.

Elain grinned and immediately hopped up, rushing to see what the little boy had to show her.

"I see what you mean about her," Aela commented quietly. "I like her very much and see how she would have fit in well with you and Nesta, but there is something about her. Something I wouldn't want to cross."

Aerenwen nodded. "My mother worried about her the most. Elain went through a period of time where she was very interested in the magicka arts. She's probably the most advanced of us in them, aside from Mari, but our mother feared she would follow the road to dark magicka. She's very skilled, and she'd do anything for those she loves, but you're right. I think my eldest little sister is capable of things the rest of us aren't."

Aela frowned at the worried look on her lover's face.

"In actuality, the Dark Brotherhood would probably be the best thing that could happen to her," Aerenwen continued. "Mother always worried about necromancy."

Aela shivered and watched as Elain happily played tag with Farkas and Hamish, wondering at how sisters could be so similar and yet also so different.

* * *

The next several days went as planned. Aela and Elain both left the following morning, the Huntress for a mission with Skjor to retrieve another fragment of Wuthraad from the Silver Hand, and Elain back to her home and then to visit Mari in Falkreath. Aerenwen took a few local assignments for the Companions, small jobs that paid a bit of coin but didn't require her to be away from home for more than a few hours. After the extended trip to High Hrothgar and the upcoming trip to Ustengrav, she wanted to spend as much time with Hamish as she could. Although she knew he was in good hands with Lydia while she was away, she never wanted him to feel like he came second to her job with the Companions or her Dragonborn business.

After lunch on Loredas, Hamish, Lydia, and Aerenwen struck off for Riverwood. They had communicated via currier the day before to arrange things. Aerenwen was anxious to see her friends after an extended time away, and Hamish was going to spend the week with Sigrid's family while Lydia visited a friend in Riften, a fellow orphan from her time at Honorhall who she thought of as a sister and hadn't seen in several months.

After a delicious dinner of grilled leaks, venison roast, and baked potatoes, Lydia and Aerenwen returned home to Whiterun. Lydia would leave the next morning for Riften and retired to bed early in the evening. Aerenwen spent a few hours reading by the fire before calling it a night herself.

* * *

Aela and Skjor returned to Whiterun well after midnight on Sundas morning. They had made good time, having traveled in their beast form across the planes. The mission had been another trap, and while they had expected it, the battle had been fierce. They had come out victorious and retrieved the fragment, though both were wounded severely in the process.

As they made their way back to Jorrvaskr, Skjor caught the longing look Aela cast toward Breezehome. Her body was exhausted and sore, the effects of the silver in her bloodstream begining to take affect, and she craved the comfort of her lover.

"Go ahead," he said with a smirk. "I'll cover for you."

"What will you tell them?" Aela asked, knowing when he returned without her that the other Companions would have questions.

"Really, its no one's business but your own where you choose to recouperate," he assured her. "I'll simply tell them you're healing under good care and will return to Jorrvaskr later. Go. Be with Aerenwen. She'll heal your spirit as well as your body. You have the herbs?"

Aela nodded and quickly let herself into Breezehome with the spare key she had been given just a few days before. She stood in the doorway for a few moments, attempting to get her wits about her.

Lydia emerged from her bedroom dressed in full armor. The Huntress wondered if the housecarl ever truly slept.

"Huntress!" Lydia gasped, seeing the poor shape the warrior was in. She was covered in dirt and blood and looked quite faint. The housecarl rushed to her side as the other woman nearly collapsed, catching her and helping her sit down next to the fire.

Though her vision was blurry, sounds echoed in her head, and Aela heard Lydia make her way up the stairs and knock on Aerenwen's bedroom door.

"My Thane," the housecarl spoke.

A soft, sleep-filled voice answered.

"Lady Aerenwen, you are needed downstairs," the housecarl said. "Lady Aela is wounded."

Almost immediately, Aerenwen was kneeling before her love. Aela smiled at the sight of Aerenwen in her nightclothes, hair braided and makeup removed. She'd never seen the other woman appearing so innocent and vulnerable.

"Oh Aela," Aerenwen whispered. "Silver?"

Aela nodded. "We defeated them, but it wasn't an easy battle."

"Skjor?" Aerenwen asked.

"He's back at Jorrvaskr, probably being healed by Tilma as we speak," the warrior answered weakly. "The herbs we need are in my satchel."

Aerenwen nodded and stood. "Lydia, will you please prepare a bath for Aela in the tub in my bed chamber?" she asked.

The housecarl nodded and disappeared, returning several times to warm water beside the fire. When the bath was finished, Aerenwen assured her friend that she could handle things from there, and Lydia retired once again, a look of worry on her face. Aela the Huntress had always seemed invincible to her, and seeing the woman so battered and frail was concerning.

Aerenwen lifted her lover into her arms and carried her, bridal fashion, up the stairs. Aela wrapped her arms around her love's neck and buried her face there. Once in the bedroom, Aerenwen helped the other woman strip and settle into the tub. Seeing the woman she loved in the nude for the first time certainly caused a reaction in the elf, but it was not a time for such things, and she quickly got down to business.

Aela was so tired, but she knew she could not allow herself to sleep until the herbs Tilma had prepared were applied to her wounds. If she fell asleep while under the effect of silver, she may never wake up. She lie there, tiredly, as Aerenwen scrubbed the dirt and blood away from her face and body, going through several clean rags. When she was finished, the bath water was so filthy you could no longer see the bottom of the tub, but Aela was clean, and the elf helped her out of the tub and gently dried her off.

"I've never seen you without your warpaint," Aerenwen commented with a smile.

The lack of warpaint gave Aela a wholesome, innocent appearance, and freckles were visible on the bridge of her nose and cheekbones. Aerenwen leaned forward and kissed the other woman softly on her lips

"I love you," Aela said in almost a whisper.

Aerenwen was sure it was the feverish delerium that had caused the Nord to utter those words for the first time, yet she was also certain she meant it. "I love you," she replied with a soft smile. She removed the herbs from Aela's satchel and mixed a poltice with a bit of water and some honey to help it stick. She applied the poltice to Aela's wounds, using the greatest amount on the large gash in her side and the small but deep cuts on her arms. She then wrapped the wounds in thin cloth.

"I'm so cold," Aela muttered, and a visible shiver ran through her as Aerenwen braided her wet, red hair to get it out of her face.

"Come, love," the elf instructed, helping her to her feet. "Your wounds are treated. Let's get some rest."

Aela nodded and laid down in Aerenwen's bed, relishing the comfort of the soft mattress and pillow. Aerenwen pulled the furs over her and held a bottle of healing potion to the Nord's lips. "Drink," she instructed, and her patient was quick to follow her orders.

Aerenwen then stripped down herself, knowing her body heat would help warm Aela and climbed beneath the furs on the bed. She pulled Aela, who was nearly asleep already, into her arms and held her close. The elf knew she wouldn't sleep much as she worried about her love, but she held her tightly, skin against skin, as they shared body heat, and the Huntress fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Lydia had checked on the women before leaving, offering to remain at home for another day if her Thane needed her assistance. She had been unable to hide the surprise she had at seeing the two women wrapped in one another's arms, obviously completely nude beneath the furs in Aerenwen's bed. Although she had realized the two Companions shared a close bond, she hadn't realized until that moment that their feelings for one another were far from platonic. Aerenwen assured her that they would be fine and to enjoy her time away, and the housecarl smiled softly at them as she closed the door behind her. Although surprised by the revelation, she wasn't opposed to it. She respected and enjoyed the company of her fellow Nord and couldn't deny that her Thane was different when the Huntress was around - lighter, happier - and she felt the two women made a good match.

Not long after Lydia left, Aela's fever finally broke, and Aerenwen breathed a sigh of relief. She finally felt that she could cease her vigil and get some rest and fell into a peaceful sleep, knowing that the woman she loved was out of danger.

* * *

Aela awoke when the sun was high in the sky. She first became aware of the bare body pressed tightly against hers. Her confusion faded as the memories of the night before rushed back into her mind. It was foggy, like remembering a night after being under the influence of a great deal of mead, but she recalled coming to Breezehome after returning to Whiterun. She remembered Aerenwen's gentle and loving care as she bathed her and nursed her wounds, and her verbal declaration of the depths of her feelings for the other woman. She could already tell that with the herbs counteracting the affects of the silver, her beast blood had gone to work quickly healing her wounds, and now that she felt rested and was healing, her body was having an entirely different reaction to her lover's naked body against hers.

She gazed at the elf adoringly and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Aerenwen opened her eyes and smiled widely at the Nord.

"There you are," she commented quietly, her voice still filled with sleep. "You frightened me last night."

Aela kissed her softly and brushed a stray lock of auburn hair out of the elf's face. "I'm sorry I frightened you," she said. "Perhaps I should have returned to Jorrvaskr and spared you the worry."

Aerenwen adamently shook her head, pulling the other woman closer. "No. Always come to me when you need me. I am here to help in whatever way I can, worry or not. We're in this together, Aela."

The Nord smiled. "I love you, Aerenwen."

The elf couldn't fight the bright smile that appeared on her face. "I love you, Aela. So much."

Their lips met and the kiss quickly became heated. Aela's hands explored the soft expanse of Aerenwen's bare back, traveling across her hip and up her side, carresing the edge of Aerenwen's small breast.

"Are you sure?" the elf asked. "You feel well enough?"

Aela smiled and looked deep into the elf's eyes. "I don't know if I've ever been this sure of anything else in my life, and yes, my love. I'm feeling well now. Thanks to you."

Aerenwen pressed her lips against the Nord's in a hungry kiss, and the rest of Sundas was spent in bed.


	19. Ustengrav

Chapter Eleven: Ustengrav (Morndas, 22nd of Hearthfire; Tirdas, 23rd of Hearthfire)

It was approaching dinner time when the trio of women arrived in Morthal. It was a small town tucked between a snow-covered mountain range and the salt marshes off the Sea of Ghosts, much of the town built upon the edge of these marshes with raised wooden platforms serving as walkways to avoid stepping on the soft, wet earth.

The town had obviously seen its better days. The buildings were rundown, and the residents appeared downtrodden. The atmosphere about Morthal was dismal, and the air humid yet cold, causing the women to shiver from the cool dampness that seemed to permeate their armor and settle into their bones.

Moorside Inn was a humble establishment, not unlike the other small inns throughout Skyrim, though it was run by a Redguard woman who introduced herself as Jonna. She was extremely accommodating, and the tomato soup and fresh bread she served the women for their dinner was excellent. Aela and Aerenwen rented a room with a double bed, and Elain rented a smaller room on the opposite side of the inn. The three then spent the evening at a table near the fire, enjoying libations and conversation and trying their best to ignore the sounds of the ill-talented Orc bard the inn employed.

It was close to midnight before the women decided to retire for the night. They had just stood from their table when they were approached by a Nord man of middle age.

"Excuse me," he said. "Jonna told me your names were Aerenwen and Elain. Is that correct?"

The women were immediately on edge, wondering why he was asking. After all, they were wanted fugitives. They instinctively placed their hands a bit closer to the weapons sheathed at their hips but didn't move to grab them. After all, what were the chances of a Nord laborer in the far north of Skryim spying for the Thalmor?

"That is correct," Elain answered. "Who's asking?"

"Forgive me," the man replied, "I am Jorgen. I run the lumbermill here in Morthal, and I just felt you must be Steffen's sisters. There's a resemblance, and I doubt the chances of two High Elf women traveling together with those names that weren't the ones he'd spoken of would be very high."

The women relaxed at this, no longer on guard but alert with curiosity as to how this man knew their brother.

"You know Steffen?" Aerenwen asked in surprise at the exact same moment Elain wondered "Is he here?"

"I do know Steffen," Jorgen replied, "but he isn't here. He's a close friend of my daughter Illdi's, and they visited last month for Harvest's End. He told us of his sisters, and my wife and I promised to do what we could to help find you. He and my daughter are both students at the Bards' College in Solitude."

"Thank you for telling us this," Aerenwen replied with a smile. "All of our sisters are accounted for, but we hadn't had any word of Steffen until now, so we were quite worried for him."

"I'll be happy to send word to him by currier that I saw you here," Jorgen offered. "He is worried about you all as well."

"Thank you, but that shouldn't be necessary," Elain replied. "We have an errand to run in the area tomorrow, but afterwards, I was actually planning to head to Solitude to check out the college for myself. We suspected he may be there."

Jorgen smiled at that. "You all know each other very well. Our biggest lead in finding you was to check out the Companions in Whiterun to see if you were there," he explained to Aerenwen. "I sent a letter to my sister, Hulde, a few weeks ago but haven't received a reply yet. I'd begun to worry she wasn't well."

"Hulde is well," Aela replied with a smile, knowing the innkeeper quite well. "Overworked and a bit too nosey for her own good, but she is doing fine. I'm sure the currier was just delayed with the war and the dragons about."

Jorgen nodded. "I'm happy to hear that. And it is an honor to be in the presence of two Companions of Whiterun. Could I buy you three ladies a drink?"

"Thank you, Jorgen," Aerenwen replied, "but we must decline. We need to be on the road early in the morning and were just calling it a night."

"Although if our errand goes well," Elain added, "we may take you up on that in celebration tomorrow night."

Jorgen chuckled and bid the ladies good night.

Aerenwen slept well that night in the arms of her lover, knowing that all of her siblings were safe and finding their way in Skyrim.

* * *

"Are you sure this is it?" Elain asked as the women dismounted their horses beside the mound Aela claimed was Ustengrav. The area was rather unremarkable, a stone mound with a large hole in the center, and a few standing stones located nearby, some of which had fallen over after years of disrepair. "It doesn't look like much."

"A lot of these ancient barrows are like that," Aela explained. "The outside is deceiving, but it's quite amazing how far into the depths of the earth the ancients traversed. These tombs are probably only rivaled by the dwarves when it comes to underground architecture."

"The dwarves?" Aerenwen questioned, unfamiliar with the term.

"Elves," the Nord answered. "They built underground cities throughout Skyrim and Morrowind, but their entire race completely disappeared over a thousand years ago."

"Ah, the Dwemer," Elain replied.

Aerenwen nodded. "We know a bit about them. Glenys found them fascinating, and it was impossible for some of her knowledge not to rub off on us."

"That would explain what drew her to Markarth," Aela replied. "The city is built within an ancient dwarven ruin."

Aerenwen climbed the edge of the burrow's outcrop, and the other two women followed her down the stairwell that wound around the circular edge of the opening. An iron door greeted them at the bottom.

At first, Ustengrav was not unlike the other tombs Aerenwen had explored during her time in Skyrim. Stone tunnels leading between burial chambers. The occasional large room with ruins of once intricate carvings and architecture, much of which was dragon-themed. The alarming part, however, was that nearly every draugr, frostbite spider, and skeever they came across had already been dealt with.

"Someone else has been here," Elain commented after they had come across the remains of the first few foes.

Aerenwen nodded in agreement.

"Recently," Aela added, "from the looks of it."

After some time, the trio of women came across another iron door. Passing through it brought them into the depths of Ustengrav, a large natural cavern lit by glowing mushrooms and other iridescent fungi on the walls and ceiling, giving the room an unnaturally bright glow. A large tree somehow grew in the deepest portion of the area, surrounded by a waterfall and flowing natural spring.

They took quite some time exploring this area of the ruin, finding several small rooms and tunnels located off the large, open cavern. Though all turned out to be dead ends, they discovered a good sum of valuable loot they would split between the three of them when their journey was complete. In these rooms, they came across a few still-roaming draugr, hinting at the fact that whomever had traveled through previously had taken the most direct route through the barrow and hadn't had an interest in truly exploring. The unknown adventurer had a clear intent for visiting Ustengrav, and this made Aerenwen uneasy.

"Whoever was here wasn't an adventurer or treasure hunter," she commented as they took a break sitting upon the edge of the cavern, looking down over the waterfall. "They were here to get something specific, and I have a sneaking suspicion, the horn may not be where it's supposed to be."

"What use could anyone else have with the horn of Jurgen Windcaller?" Elain wondered.

Aerenwen shrugged. "Monetary value? I'd gather there are a great many scholars in Skyrim who might pay a pretty septim for a piece with that sort of historical value."

"Or it could be they knew you would be sent here," Aela interjected. "For some reason, someone may not want the Dragonborn to have the horn, or we could be walking into a trap. We need to be especially alert."

"What's that?" Elain asked, after she has voiced her agreement to The Huntress.

The others followed her gaze into the depths of the cavern below, noticing a curved stone wall with the visage of a dragon atop it.

"That," Aerenwen replied, "is one of the word walls, sister."

Elain's eyes widened in excitement. "Well, what are we waiting for?" she asked, eager to see the odd thing that happened to her sister when approaching one of those walls.

Aerenwen laughed and stood, knowing that a part of Elain's excitement was the competitiveness she had always had with Nesta. The other sister had already gotten to watch Aerenwen learn a new shout at the wall in Shroud Hearth Barrow, and Elain wasn't going to allow herself to be completely left out of the Dragonborn excitement.

* * *

After visiting the wall and learning a new word, Feim, the three women retraced their steps to the top of the cavern and began to look for the way deeper into the barrow.

Three short, stone columns etched with the ancient language stood before a set of three closed iron doors. After some experimenting, they discovered that standing beside each column opened the corresponding gate, however, none of them could run quickly enough to make it through the gates before they crashed down in front of them.

"I can use the shout the Greybeards taught me," Aerenwen finally decided, "and hope that once I get on the other side, there will be another way to open the gates to let you two through."

They agreed this was their only course of action, and each took their place beside a column, causing the columns and the ground around them to glow with an ethereal light, and the three gates to open.

Aerenwen took a deep breath and shouted, and the other two watched in awe as she traveled so quickly she was simply a blur, becoming visible again on the opposite side of the now closed gates. She found a pull chain located inside the final gate. Pulling it opened that gate, and she discovered between the gates were two more. With all three gates now remaining open, her sister and lover were able to join her in the next room and followed Aerenwen up a set of stone steps.

At the top of the steps was a large room full of stone columns and recently hatched frostbite spiders. As they readied for battle, the frostbite spiders took care of themselves, revealing that the floor of the room was full of flame spout traps and slowly igniting themselves as they approached the women. The spiders taken care of with little effort on their part, the women made their way around the edge of the room, avoiding the traps, and following a tunnel that ended in another closed gate.

This time, Elain found the pull chain that opened it, and the women found themselves in a large room. A stone bridge passed through the center of the room ahead of them, water on each side of it, ending at a large alter on the far side.

As they slowly made their way across the bridge, large, stone dragon heads emerged from the water around them. Upon reaching the alter, it was clear their worries had been justified. A decorative display area for the horn was located atop what was obviously the tomb of Jurgen Windcaller, but there was no horn there. In its place was a folded piece of paper.

Aerenwen studied the paper in the dim light of the room and read its hastily scrawled contents to her companions.

 _Dragonborn -_

 _I need to speak to you. Urgently._

 _Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you._

 _\- a friend_

"Looks like you were right," Elain stated to Aela. "Someone knew the Greybeards would send the Dragonborn to fetch this horn and beat us to it."

"I guess I'll be stopping at the Sleeping Giant when I return to Riverwood to pick up Hamish," Aerenwen stated, glancing around the room in frustration. She felt like she was being toyed with and had wasted a great deal of time on this ridiculous quest, and neither made her very happy.

"I'm coming with you," Aela insisted.

Aerenwen raised a single eyebrow at the huntress. "Do you really think that's necessary? You've spent a great deal of time running this errand with me already. It's one thing for me to take time away from our responsibilities at Jorrvaskr to run personal errands, but you're needed there."

"It could be a trap, Ren," Aela replied. "We don't know who this 'friend'," she said the word with a great deal of suspicion, "is or what it is they want with you."

"I realize that, Aela," the elf replied, "but we also know the chances of this mysterious person revealing themselves if I show up with others are probably slim to none. I know you're concerned, but they've set a public place as the meeting spot. I'm gathering they just want to talk, and if that's not the case, you know I can handle myself. I have friends in Riverwood. I will make sure they are aware of where I am going, and if they have any reason to be concerned, I will make sure they know to contact you."

Aela frowned, knowing that Aerenwen was right but not liking the situation one bit. "What if I go with you but stay with Sigrid?" she asked. "I won't show myself at the inn, but then I will be close by if something happens, and you need me."

Aerenwen smiled. "I can agree to that."

Elain had watched her sister and the huntress volley back and forth with a smirk. Aela's devotion to her sister had impressed the elf and earned her respect, and she found it amusing that Aerenwen had met her match when it came to stubborn courageousness. "Alright," she said, standing from the spot where she had been sitting at the edge of the alter and clapping her hands. "So let's get the hell out of here. I, for one, am tired of breathing in this musty, dead air, and I think we've earned that drink we were promised upon our return to Morthal."

The other two women agreed, and they quickly found a secret exit from the room and made their way back to the surface.


	20. Delphine

Chapter Twelve: Delphine (Middas, 24th of Hearthfire; Turdas, 25th of Hearthfire)

It was dinner time when Aerenwen and Aela arrived in Riverwood. The air was cool, and a chilly autumnal rain fell on the small town, giving the elf a chill. She pulled her cloak tighter around her and glanced at her companion with a wry smile.

"It's going to be a very long winter if you continue to watch me with such concern every time the temperature drops."

Aela chuckled and shrugged. "I'm a Nord. I'm built for the cold, and you aren't. Plus, my beastblood makes it so I hardly even feel the chill. I worry about you. Our winters here are harsh, but I suppose, it just gives me more reason to make sure I warm your bed every night."

Aerenwen laughed at the woman's flirting as they climbed the steps to the porch of Alvar's house.

The blacksmith was working his forge and greeted the women with a smile. They entered the house and were met with excited hugs from Hamish who chattered on incessantly about the fun he had had with their friends while the women were gone.

After a hearty meal and warming herself by the fire, Aerenwen made her way across the street to the Sleeping Giant which she found full of its usual patrons who greeted her with familiarity and raised their mugs in her honor. She approached the counter where the surly innkeeper, Delphine, watched her with a suspicious eye.

"I'd like to rent the attic room please," Aerenwen stated, pulling out her coin purse.

The blonde woman looked at her in confusion and, possibly, surprise. "We don't have an attic room," she stated bluntly, "but you're welcome to one of our other rooms."

Aerenwen was confused. The note had clearly stated the attic room, but perhaps, requesting a room that didn't exist, would be the signal to her supposed friend that she had arrived. She agreed and handed over ten septims, glancing around the room wondering who it was that could be waiting for her. She knew everyone present at the inn in that moment, and not a one of them was someone she could imagine successfully navigating the depths of Ustengrav to retrieve the horn.

Delphine led her to a small room to the left of the counter and left her alone. The elf sat in the chair and pulled out a book she had carried with her.

* * *

A few hours passed. The tavern on the other side of her closed door grew quiet, and she knew that the majority of the patrons had returned to their homes for the night. She was wondering how long she would need to wait and wishing she could return to her family when the door to her room opened, and Delphine stood in the opening.

"So, you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about," she stated with an appraising look over the high elf. "I never would have guessed it was you, but I did sense there was more to you than just a typical traveler. I believe you're looking for this." She pulled a horn, presumably the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, out from behind her back.

Aerenwen stood and took the horn from her, surprised that the innkeeper was the one who had taken it. She studied her and suddenly made a connection. Farengar's visitor, after her return from Bleak Falls Barrow, the familiar voice. The cloaked figure in the black armor had been the innkeeper. Delphine was Farengar's mysterious associate when it came to matters of dragons, and Aerenwen wanted to know what this woman knew. "I'm here," she stated, "as requested. What is it you want from me?"

Delphine glanced behind her into the tavern. Orgnar was doing some cleaning behind the counter. Sven was packing up for the night, and Embry was passed out in a chair beside the fire. "Not here," the innkeeper replied. "Follow me."

Aerenwen followed the woman out of her room and across the tavern, entering the room that was obviously where she slept. She watched as Delphine latched the door behind them and made her way to the wardrobe on the far wall. She opened it and pressed on the back of it, revealing a hidden doorway leading to a set of stairs. Down the stairs was a room that looked much like a Jarl's war room. Weapon racks lined the walls, and a table in the center of the room was covered with a large map and several books.

"The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn," the woman stated, standing on the other side of the table and resting against it. "I hope they're right."

"The signs seem to indicate they are," Aerenwen replied, crossing her arms.

"Like I said, I hope so," the woman answered, "but you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so. I just handed you the horn of Jurgen Windcaller after retrieving it myself from Ustengrav. Does that make me Dragonborn, too?"

"I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you're the one who took the horn," Aerenwen stated. She wondered how the woman had navigated the gates especially.

Delphine smirked. "Surprised? I guess I'm pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act."

"I'd say," the elf stated. "You don't seem to be the type of person who would go delving into ancient tombs after a nearly-forgotten artifact."

"Good," the middle-aged woman answered with a satisfied smile. "The whole point of being in hiding is to appear as someone you're not."

"Why all the cloak-and-dagger?" Aerenwen asked.

"You can't be too careful," Delphine replied. "There are Thalmor spies everywhere. You, of all people, should know that."

"I assure you, I owe no allegiance to the Thalmor," the Altmer woman defended. "I am a fugitive in their eyes. I am no spy."

"I may not be convinced yet that you are truly the Dragonborn," Delphine replied. "But that I do believe or else I never would have invited you into this space." She glanced around the room, and Aerenwen suspected she was the only one aside from the innkeeper to ever have set foot in it.

"And what exactly is your reason for dragging me here?" Aerenwen asked. "I've been traveling for days. I have responsibilities elsewhere and little time for cryptic conversations with unfriendly innkeepers."

Delphine smirked. "I think I like you," she stated. "I assure you that my reasons are valid. I couldn't exactly reveal my identity openly without risking everything. I am not your enemy, Aerenwen. I already gave you the horn. I'm actually trying to help you. I just need you to hear me out."

"So what is it that you want?"

"Like I said in my note," Delphine replied, "I've heard you might be Dragonborn. I have associates in Whiterun and have heard the rumors. I'm part of a group that has been looking for you . . . well, someone like you, for a very long time if you really are Dragonborn, that is. Before I tell you any more, I need to make sure I can trust you."

"If you still don't think you can trust me, why bring me here? You went through a lot of trouble to get the horn. There were certainly easier ways to go about arranging a meeting with me."

"An Altmer showing up out of the blue in Whiterun and claiming to be Dragonborn, wreaks of Thalmor plots," Delphine replied. "I may not trust the Greybeards, but a Thalmor spy would never pass their initial tests. I knew they would send you after the horn if they believed you to be Dragonborn. Those old men are nothing if not predictable. It was the only way I could be certain you weren't a Thalmor operative."

"Why are the Thalmor after you?" Aerenwen asked.

"We're very old enemies," Delphine replied simply, "and, if my suspicions are correct, they may have something to do with the return of the dragons, but none of that is important right now. What's important is that you might be Dragonborn."

Aerenwen frowned. "First off, I may hold no love for the Thalmor, but knowing what I know about them, any theories as to them being behind the dragons are far-fetched and, frankly, paranoid."

Delphine shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time I've been called paranoid, but all that remains to be seen. I need to see proof that you are what they say you are."

"Why are you looking for the Dragonborn?" the elf asked.

"We remember what most don't," the innkeeper replied, "that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragon slayer. You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul. Can you do that? Can you devour a dragon's soul?"

"Yes, that's how I first learned I was Dragonborn," Aerenwen replied. "I killed a dragon at the western watchtower outside of Whiterun and absorbed some sort of power and knowledge from it. At the time, I didn't know what it was, but based upon what I have learned, that's what happened."

"Good," Delphine replied, glancing down at the map in front of her. "You will have the opportunity to prove it to me soon enough."

"And how will I do that?" Aerenwen asked. "You'd need to be with me when I killed a dragon, and I've only seen the one since Helgen. Honestly, it's hard to know if there will even be more."

"Dragons aren't just coming back," Delphine replied, the passion she had for the topic clear in her voice. "They're actually coming back to life. They weren't gone somewhere else for all these years and just, suddenly decided to come back to Skyrim. They were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors, but without a Dragonborn to absorb their souls, something has triggered their resurrection. If you really are Dragonborn, it is your duty to help me stop it."

"This all sounds kind of crazy," Aerenwen stated.

Delphine chuckled. "A few years ago, I said almost the same thing to one of my colleagues. It turned out he was right, and I was wrong. I've visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty. I've been researching it all, with some help, and have begun to detect a pattern."

"I assume that Dragonstone I brought to you and Farengar had something to do with this discovery."

Delphine smirked. "You are clever. The Dragonstone was a map of all the ancient burial sites. After visiting them and marking off the ones that are already empty," she pointed to a few points on her map, "I've deduced that the pattern began in the southeast and is slowly spreading north and westward. I suspect the next rising will occur outside of Kynesgrove. A dragon by the name of Sahloknir is buried there, and when I visited a few days ago, the mound was still untouched, but exactly when he will rise can't be determined. We may already be too late."

"So I take it you want me to travel to Kynesgrove with you to check it out," Aerenwen stated.

"Yes," Delphine replied. "I will meet you in Kynesgrove tomorrow at twilight. That should give you a few hours before leaving to arrange for your boy to be looked after in your absence."

Aerenwen frowned. A few hours, yes, but certainly not many. Lydia wouldn't return for a few more days, and she would need to impose upon Sigrid and Alvor again. But did she really have a choice? If she truly had the ability to stop the death and destruction the return of dragons was causing, wasn't it her duty to do so?

She agreed to meet Delphine and made her way back to her friends' house where everyone was sleeping aside from Aela who sat near the fire. She was clearly relieved to see the elf, and they quietly made their way downstairs, so Aerenwen could tell her what had transpired without waking the others.

"How do you know you can trust her?" Aela asked after hearing the story.

"When it comes right down to it, I don't," Aerenwen replied, "but I really don't have much of a choice, Aela. I need answers, and though the Greybeards have been helpful in that, they're still keeping secrets. Delphine clearly has a history when it comes to dragons and Dragonborn, and I suspect when she has seen proof that I am Dragonborn, she will be much more forthcoming with information. And the fact remains, if she wanted me dead, she already has had plenty of opportunity to try. She could have surprised us in Ustengrav, and she took me to her secret war room. There were plenty of weapons there, and yet she wasn't even armed when we spoke. She may be paranoid, but there is something deeper here, and I need to see it through."

"You won't let me come with you, will you?" Aela asked, already knowing the answer.

Aerenwen shook her head. "She's not an easy one to gain the trust of, that much is clear. When she knows I am Dragonborn, and I've earned her allegiance, I will introduce the two of you. Until then, I need to do this on my own."

Aela nodded. "I can stay with Hamish back in Whiterun, if you'd like, until either you or Lydia return."

"You're sure?" Aerenwen questioned. "The Companions, no doubt, are sensing our absence. I'm sure Sigrid and Alvor wouldn't mind him staying for a few more days."

Aela nodded. "I'm sure. I'll talk to Skjor. Lydia will be home in two days time, so they can make due without me for a bit longer. It's not the first time I've taken an extended absence for my own reasons."

And so it was decided. After breakfast, the women and Hamish returned to Whiterun. While he ran off to see his friends, Aela visited Jorrvaskr and spoke with Skjor, and Aerenwen sold the treasures they had found in Ustengrav to Belethor at his General Goods Store. After lunch, the elf packed up enough supplies for an extended stay, having no idea how long she would be in Kynesgrove, and Aela and Hamish walked her to the stables.

"Be careful," the huntress ordered after saying their goodbyes.

"Always," Aerenwen replied, mounting her horse and riding away from her home and the ones she loved once again.

 **Author's Note: That is the end of Part II:Hearthfire for Aerenwen. We will catch up with her again in the month of Frostfall, but first, let's check in with Mari. . .**


	21. Kynesgrove

Part Three: Frostfall

Chapter One: Kynesgrove (Turdas, 2nd of Frostfall)

Aerenwen was bored. She did not idle well. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy relaxation, but to her relaxation was an occasional day off enjoying the company of her loved ones. It wasn't an entire week in a small inn sitting on her haunches and waiting for a dead dragon who may or may not even wake up.

Kynesgrove was a tiny settlement. It certainly didn't qualify as a town or even a village and, honestly, calling it a settlement may have even been a stretch. It was built near a grove of trees that were apparently sacred to the goddess Kyne, hence the name Kynesgrove. It consisted of one buiding - the Braidwood Inn - run by a Nord couple, Kjeld and Iddara, and the main source of income for the small settlement, a malachite mine, Steamscorch Mine.

Aerenwen liked Iddara well enough. She was kind, not prone to gossip or idle chit chat, and a hard worker. She was a good wife and mother to the couple's two children, Kjeld the Younger and Froa. Kjeld, however, was a different story. He didn't contribute at all around the inn or in the family's small field of crops, though he did spend some time working in the mine. Although Aerenwen wasn't convinced the man owned the mine, as the family clearly was struggling a bit financially, he did run it, and therefore, he ran the settlement and made no attempt to hide that fact, often bragging of his position of authority. He also made no attempts to hide the fact that he was unfaithful to his wife, taking overnight trips to the nearby city of Windhelm at least once a week. He treated the woman, as well as his daughter, poorly and openly encouraged his teenage son to do the same.

The settlement consisted of four other permanent residents. One, a dunmer mage, made her home at the inn and worked for the mine. Because of its close proximity to the volcanic tundra Aerenwen had admired that afternoon with Aela from a distance, the temperature inside the mine could rise to an unbearable degree, and the miners often dealt with pockets of steam and boiling hot ground water. Dravynea used her magical arts and frost salts to keep the temperature down and deal with the hazardous pockets they came across.

The other three residents of Kynesgrove camped in tents at the campsite outside the inn, which Aerenwen couldn't imagine doing because of the frosty northern wind that always passed through the snow-covered hilltop town. Roggi Knot-Beard didn't seem to mind the cold. He was a Nord, after all, and his strong natural constitution against the frigid temperatures, as well as the obscene amount of mead the man drank on a regular basis, heightened his tolerance to the cold. Despite his drinking habit, Roggi, who considered himself an expert on mead and its making although he had never actually made a living doing such, was a hard worker in the mine, and Aerenwen actually enjoyed the man's company. He was the most jovial Nord she had encountered, aside from, perhaps, Farkas, although her friend's laid back and joyful attitude was only present in the company of those he knew well whereas Roggi acted that way all the time, no matter who was present. He was a font of random knowledge, and although he was the only Knot-Beard currently living in Kynesgrove, apparently his family had lived there for generations. He often told stories of them. One of his ancestors had helped to found the settlement around the mine but had disappeared after chasing off a group of bandits. The family always assumed he had been killed by those bandits but never went in search of his body, although they had always lamented the loss of the family's ancestral shield he had carried.

"We Knot-Beards aren't fighters," Roggi had told Aerenwen. "Hard workers, good story tellers, strong lovers, and great drinkers, but my ancestors, as well as myself, knew if we went off looking for Lenne and the shield, we'd end up just as he was, dead in a cave somewhere."

Ganna and Gemma Uriel, the final two residents who worked the mines in Kynesgrove, were a set of Imperial sisters who had moved to Skyrim just a year before. They'd used all their savings to build a lumber mill nearby only to discover they had angered the local Nords by harvesting Kyne's sacred trees. Now their mill was bankrupt, and they were working off their debt to the Nords in Steamscorch Mine. Both hated it, and neither was at all fond of Kynesgrove. Ganna was constantly trying to find a way to get their mill back up and running, but the closest trees aside from the grove were too close to a competitor's mill. Despite the hardships and bad luck they had faced, she had no desire to return to Cyrodiil where Aerenwen had gotten the impression the sisters had lived under the yoke of a controlling father. Gemma, however, made it well known that she was only there because her sister had convinced her to move to Skyrim, and that she would happily return to Cyrodiil and a more comfortable way of life. Despite their constant bickering, the sisters clearly had a strong affection and devotion to each other, and Gemma wouldn't return to their homeland without Ganna.

Aerenwen wished she could explore the area. Despite the fact that Kynesgrove itself was unremarkable and had been easily explored in under an hour, the area in which it was located was fascinating. It wasn't far from the city of Windhelm, and the Altmer longed to explore the ancient city and pay a visit to Elain. It was also located within the foothills of the Velothi Mountains, and Aerenwen knew there were numerous caves, ruins, and tombs nearby ripe for exploration. Not to mention the volcanic tundra with its odd vegetation and hot springs. Aerenwen often stood on the hill above the settlement and looked out over the unique landscape. Yet despite the closeness of all these attractions that could fill her idleness and make the time pass by more quickly, Delphine had made it clear she was not to leave Kynesgrove and risk missing the return of the dragon.

Delphine, herself, was poor company. Aerenwen had quickly learned not to attempt to converse with the middle-aged woman. She refused to delve further into any business talk until she had proof of the high elf's Dragonborn status and wasn't one for small talk. On the rare occasion Delphine had reason to speak with Aerenwen, she would begin the chat, and otherwise, the Altmer gave the other woman a wide berth.

She was missing Aela and Hamish desperately. The trip she had hoped would only take a few days had now stretched into a week with no sign of it ending. She and Delphine visited the dragon's burial mound above the inn twice daily and so far saw no signs to hint of the dragon resurrecting anytime soon.

The locals despised the dragon mound. Kjeld informed them that most Nords were superstitious of the ancient tombs, even before the dragons had returned. Most dragon mounds were in the wilderness, away from people, and Kynesgrove's mound was unique in its proximity to a settlement which had kept most folks from wanting to settle there. Kjeld called these people "milk-drinkers" and refused to believe the mound was anything more than a ring of stone. After so long of sitting idle, Aerenwen was beginning to believe the man was right.

Turdas, a week after arriving in Kynesgrove, had been the same as every other day in the small community for Aerenwen. She'd split some wood and even mined some malachite to try and pass the time. She'd shared a quiet dinner with Delphine and visited the inactive dragon mound at sunset. Then she'd sat by the fire in the inn and chatted with Roggi over pints of mead.

It was nearing midnight, and the warrior was getting ready to retire to her small room for the night when Ganna came running through the front door. "Dragon!" she screamed in a panic. "There's a dragon attacking!"

Aerenwen immediately rose, followed by Delphine, and rushed out the door. She was already armed and in full armor despite her previous idleness - Delphine wanted her prepared any moment after all - and the cool air was actually a relief compared to the warm inn with her full leather armor on.

Sure enough, a gigantic black dragon flew over the small village, spraying plumes of fire as he went, headed straight for the dragon mound. Aerenwen recognized it as the same dragon who attacked Helgen, its size and coloring distinguishing it.

The two warrior women ran up the hill, following the path the dragon had flown, and watched as he hovered over the ancient tomb, speaking words in an ancient and foreign language they didn't understand. As he did so, an eery light shone from the stone circle half buried in the snow, and the bones of the long-dead dragon rose. The light surrounded the bones which began to take the form of a dragon again and was soon covered with flesh.

Afterward, the two dragons hovered above the women, staring at Aerenwen. The black dragon spoke in the strange dragon tongue, and after garnering no response from the Dragonborn, he chuckled deeply. "You do not even know our tongue, do you?" he asked so that she would understand. "Such arrogance to take on the name Dovah." He turned toward the other dragon, speaking in his tongue again, then flew away.

Aerenwen fired a few arrows after him to no avail.

The newly risen, smaller dragon was a gray color and bore fleshy spikes down his back. "I am Sahloknir!" he cried out, circling around over the warrior's head. "Hear my voice and despair!"

Unlike the other dragons Aerenwen had faced, this one's breath was frosty, turning anything it touched into ice. She felt the burn of the frost as he aimed it at her, but it didn't stop her as she fired arrow after arrow at the dragon.

"Bring him down!" Delphine cried.

Aerenwen shouted, "FUS RO!" sending the dragon off balance on his wings.

"Your voice is strong for a mortal," the dragon commented, "but it will be no match for mine." Again, he shouted and fired off a stream of his frost breath. He landed, snapping his giant jaws in Aerenwen's direction. "My Lord Alduin commands your death, and I am happy to oblige."

"It is not I who shall die today, dragon!" Aerenwen replied and, with a running leap, she was straddling his neck. With a few hacks she had decapitated him. As he fell forward, she dove to the ground, landing in a roll and returning to her feet.

"I'll be damned," Delphine stated as she approached with a smile. "You actually did it. That was well done."

Suddenly, Aerenwen felt the familiar sensation as the dragon's soul left its body and traveled into hers. Delphine stared wide-eyed as she watched the event.

Afterward, the blonde seemed speechless. "So you really are . . . I . . . it's true isn't it?" she stuttered out. "You really are Dragonborn." She chuckled to herself and seemed to look at Aerenwen with a new-found respect. "I guess I owe you some answers, don't I? Go ahead. Whatever you want to know. Nothing held back now."

Aerenwen nodded. "Who are you?" she asked. "What is it that you want from me?"

"I'm one of the last members of the Blades," Delphine replied, leaning against a large stone. "A very long time ago, the Blades were dragonslayers, and we served the Dragonborn, the greatest dragonslayer. Even after the dragons were gone, our service was to the Dragonborn. For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose. Now that dragons are coming back, along with a Dragonborn, our purpose is clear again. We need to stop the dragons, and it is our purpose to help the Dragonborn do so."

"Who exactly are the Blades?" Aerenwen questioned.

Delphine chuckled dryly. "Exactly. No one knows our name anymore. We used to be known all across Tamriel as protectors of the Septim emperors. Those days are long gone."

Aerenwen had so many questions for this woman and paused a moment to decide which direction to go in first. "What do you know about the dragons coming back?" she finally asked.

"Not a damn thing," Delphine replied with a shake of her head. "I was just as surprised as you to see that big, black dragon here. It looked almost like he was waking the other dragon up."

"I've seen that dragon before," Aerenwen told her. "The big one."

Delphine's eyes widened. "Really? Where?"

"It was the one who attacked Helgen," the elf answered. "I'm sure of it."

The older woman shook her head. "That's an interesting turn of events. I feel like we're grasping around in the dark here. We need to figure out who is behind this."

"Speaking of that," Aerenwen commented. "What makes you think the Thalmor are the ones behind it?"

"Nothing solid yet," Delphine replied. "But my gut tells me it couldn't be anyone else. The Empire had captured Ulfirc. The war was basically over. Then a dragon attacks out of nowhere, Ulfric escapes, and the war is back on. Now dragons are attacking everywhere, indiscriminately. Skyrim is weakened, the Empire is weakened. Who else gains from that but the Thalmor?"

"I find it difficult to believe that they are behind it," Aerenwen answered with a frown. "I admit, they do benefit from it, but my gut tells me that's a coincidence. This all seems too big. Even for them. Why are they after you, anyway?"

"Before the Great War, the Blades helped the Empire against the Thalmor," Delphine replied. "Our Grand Master saw them as the greatest threat to Tamriel. At the time, that was true. Maybe it still is. So we fought them in the shadows, all across Tamriel. We thought we were more than a match for them. We were wrong. Before the Great War, the Thalmor murdered every Blades agent in the Summerset Isles and took care of a great many of us during the war. Part of the treaty that ended the war called for our disbandment, and the Emperor agreed. Many of us were imprisoned or executed. I've managed to evade capture all these years. As far as I know, there's only one other of us left. He's in hiding as well, though he could be dead by now, for all I know. Why are they after you?"

"My siblings and I fled Alinor as fugitives," Aerenwen replied. "My family were never strong Thalmor supporters, and we were constantly under watch. My brother became involved in a revolutionary group and was arrested. When my parents spoke out against his arrest, they were arrested as well. My sisters and I managed to free our brother but were unsuccessful in doing so with our parents. We're now all wanted for treason." Aerenwen sighed and crossed her arms. "Look, I don't believe for a moment the Thalmor are behind this, but I know to convince you of that we will need evidence to rule them out. Plus, there's an excellent chance, even if they aren't behind it, they know more about it than we do. Any ideas on how to find out what they know?"

"The Thalmor have an embassy in the mountains east of Solitude," Delphine replied. "It's the center of their operations in Skyrim. If we could get into it, we'd probably find loads of information on the dragons and who knows what else. The problem is, that place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse. They could teach me a few things about paranoia."

"So we need to figure out a way to get in," Aerenwen surmised.

Delphine nodded. "I have a few ideas, but I'll need some time to pull things together. Meet me back in Riverwood in two weeks' time. Right now, I'm headed back to the inn," she nodded in the direction of Kynesgrove, "to get some sleep before the journey back. You?"

Aerenwen shook her head. Her adrenaline was still pumping from the battle with the dragon, and despite the fact that it was now well after midnight, she was eager to get home to her family. "I'm going to leave for Whiterun now."

"Keep an eye on the sky, Dragonborn," Delphine stated as she walked away. "This is only going to get worse."

 **Author's Note: The third part of Aerenwen's story should be updated weekly. I'm shooting for Sunday as my update day. Bare with me if it sometimes take a little bit longer.**


	22. Beastblood

Chapter Two: Beastblood (Fridas/Loredas/Sundas, 3rd/4th/5th of Frostfall)

It was mid-morning when Aerenwen returned to Whiterun. Her adrenaline had long since worn off during the long journey, and after situating her horse at the stables outside the city, she slowly made her way inside the walls and to her home.

Hamish rushed at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waste, Kit following behind with his bushy tail wagging. "Mama, you're home!" he exclaimed happily.

Aerenwen nearly toppled over from the surprise of his greeting and the term he used to address her. Though he'd referred to her when speaking to people as his new mother, he'd never actually called her that, and the feeling was overwhelming and warmed her tired heart. She sat in one of the chairs beside the firepit, pulling the boy onto her lap, and listened intently as he told her all about what had gone on in his life during the week she had been away.

"Are you going to go away for that long again, Mama?" he asked.

"Not any time soon, Hamish," she replied with a smile. "You know my work takes me away sometimes, but I promise, for at least a few weeks, I will make sure not to take any jobs that will have me away for more than a night or two. I've missed you."

"I missed you, too," the boy replied with a grin. "Can I go outside and play with Lars?"

"Of course," his adoptive mother replied with a smile.

He climbed off her lap and rushed out the door, calling for Kit to go with him.

"Welcome home, my Thane," Lydia said from where she had stood in the kitchen, not wanting to interrupt the reunion of the woman and child.

"Thank you, Lydia," Aerenwen replied, standing with a stretch. "It's good to be home. Are you well?"

"Yes, ma'am," her housecarl replied. "All has been well while you've been away."

"Excellent," Aerenwen replied. "Tell me, where is my sister? Hamish told me Mari has been visiting."

"She left to go to the market after breakfast," Lydia answered. "She's been spending some time at Arcadia's Cauldron. If she isn't still there, she may be visiting the temple or at Jorrvaskr with Aela. Those are the three places she usually spends her time when she isn't at home."

Aerenwen thanked Lydia for the information, and while she was aching to get some rest, she wandered out the door to find Mari. She was anxious to see her so many weeks and thought it rude to not seek her out to let her know she had returned. Not to mention, she knew she would not rest well until she had laid eyes on Aela to insure the other woman was well.

Mari wasn't too difficult to find. After discovering from Arcadia that the other Altmer had left her shop a short time before, Aerenwen made her way up the stone stairs beside the market and spotted her sister sitting on a bench beneath the Gildergreen, the large dead tree in the middle of the plaza. Her white-blonde sister grinned when she saw her.

"Surprise!" she exclaimed with a smile, jumping up to hug her sister. "You look exhausted."

"I am," Aerenwen replied with a chuckle, sitting down on the bench. Mari joined her. "Did Aela tell you where I was?"

Mari nodded. "Kynesgrove waiting for some dragon to wake up from death, so you could prove to some grouchy old lady that you are really the Dragonborn."

Aerenwen laughed. "That summed it up nicely."

"Did the dragon wake up?"

"It did," Aerenwen answered with a nod. "Though not until around midnight last night."

"Did you actually see it wake up or just afterward?" Mari wondered eagerly.

"We saw it," her sister replied, "and this whole thing just gets more and more curious. The dragon that attacked Helgen was there, and I swear he was the reason this one woke up. He started chanting something as he hovered over the tomb. Something magical was clearly happening as the bones rose out of the ground without being touched. They were surrounded by this odd light and then the dragon had flesh and scales again and was living. Delphine is convinced the Thalmor have something to do with the dragons' return, but I don't agree with her. That dragon was the first to come back, and although I don't know who woke him up, after what I saw last night, I'm certain he's responsible for the others awakening."

Mari frowned. "It's a shame old Nan isn't here," she commented. "Maybe she'd have some insight."

"Perhaps," Aerenwen replied, "or even Mother or Father. Even if they were as clueless of this whole thing as we are, it would be nice to be able to bounce these things off them."

Mari leaned toward her taller sister, resting her head atop the other woman's shoulder. "I miss them."

"Me too."

"I know we all have our separate lives now, and we're all making our way in this world," Mari continued, "but I wish we could all meet up on occasion. All at the same time, I mean. I know it's safest for us to stay apart right now, but we've always worked best together. Who knows what Glenys has read of dragons in all her years of study?"

"Perhaps we can all get together over Saturnalia," Aerenwen suggested.

"That would be nice."

"Hi, Mama! Hi, Aunty Mari!" Hamish called out as he ran passed with a group of children.

The women smiled and waved.

"He's a dear child," Mari commented. "I've enjoyed the time I've spent getting to know him the last few days."

"I'm glad you like him," Aerenwen replied. "I never pictured myself to be a mother, but there was just something about him. I couldn't send him off to an orphanage."

"I don't blame you," Mari stated. "If I had a home and a stable income, I would probably do the same."

"What's your plan now?" Aerenwen wondered. "Still headed to Winterhold?"

Mari sat up and nodded. "I'll leave here in a couple of days and stop off in Windhelm to visit Elain," she replied. "I hope to be in Winterhold before Sun's Dusk."

Aerenwen glanced toward Jorrvaskr, and Mari smirked. "I've also enjoyed the time I've spent getting to know your lady," she told her sister. "You've found yourself a wonderful mate. You're well suited for each other, and she obviously adores you."

The taller Altmer smiled. "I love her, Mari," she confessed. "I never thought I would find even a semblance of what I share with Aela."

"Do you think you will marry?"

"We've discussed it a bit, and yes, I think eventually we would both like that," Aerenwen replied. "Though I am unfamiliar with the marriage customs in Skyrim."

"Sounds like you have some research to do, sister," Mari teased, nudging shoulders with the other woman. "You should go tell her you're home."

"Is she in town?"

Mari nodded. "She was away for a couple of nights on some Companions business shortly after Lydia returned and had a job that took her away for most of the day yesterday, but she broke her fast with us this morning, and it sounded like she was planning on staying in town today."

Aerenwen stood, and Mari chuckled at her eagerness. "I'm going to pay Danica a visit at the temple," she told her. "I've been working with her to try and figure out a way to restore this tree, and I think Arcadia and I may have come up with something. I'll see you at your home later?"

Aerenwen nodded, and they parted ways.

Her return to Jorrvaskr was loud. All those in the great hall greeted her exuberantly. Farkas even more so than the rest as he hugged the elf so hard he pulled her from her feet. When he put her back down, she was laughing loudly.

"It's good to see you, too, brother," she stated with a grin. "You're well?"

"I am well. All is well here," Farkas replied. "You have been missed. The Huntress is in the training grounds."

Aerenwen smiled and headed toward the back door of the hall.

"Oh, and Aerenwen," Farkas called out as she walked away. She turned toward him. "Skjor asked that you speak to him before taking any other jobs upon your return."

Aerenwen nodded, wondering what the older man wanted, but continued on her way to see Aela.

She found the Huntress standing in the middle of the training grounds off the large covered porch behind Jorrvaskr, firing arrow after arrow at one of the targets. She was alone in the yard, and Aerenwen stood silently for a moment, just enjoying the sight of the woman she had missed so much.

It wasn't long before Aela felt eyes on her and turned to see her beautiful, Altmer lover leaning casually against one of the columns supporting the roof of the porch. The Nord's smile upon seeing her was radiant, and she quickly dropped her bow and ran across the yard, leaping into the other woman's arms.

"Gods, I've missed you!" Aela exclaimed.

Aerenwen smiled. "And I you," she replied, holding the other woman close as she pressed their lips together for a hungry kiss.

"Don't ever stay away that long again," Aela insisted.

"I'll do my best, love."

"How did it go?"

"As well as could be expected considering dragons were involved," Aerenwen replied with a slight chuckle.

"Come," Aela stated, pulling on her lover's hand. "Let's retire to my chamber where you can tell me all about it without being interrupted."

"Is it my storytelling you don't want interrupted or our reunion?" Aerenwen teased.

"Both," Aela answered with a wide grin and pulled the other woman inside.

* * *

Some time later the two women lay wrapped around each other, their bodies nude beneath the furs. They lay facing one another, nose to nose, as they came down from the high of their lovemaking.

"Farkas said that Skjor wanted to see me," Aerenwen stated. "Do you know what it's about?"

"I do," Aela replied with a small smile. "You're being given the chance to join the Circle."

Aerenwen smiled. That was surely an honor, especially so quickly.

"He wishes to see if you are interested and to offer you the beastblood."

The elf's eyes widened. She had forgotten that being a member of the Circle meant being a werewolf. It was easy not to think about the fact that the woman she loved was one. She'd never seen Aela in beast form nor did she seem at all unhuman.

"Is it something you would be interested in?" Aela wondered.

Aerenwen knew that Aela would never force her into doing anything she didn't want to do, but she also knew if she refused, her lover would see it as a rejection of some sort. Aerenwen also knew she would never refuse her. Being a werewolf would only aid her in her life as a warrior, and she'd happily become one with Aela at her side. "I think I've already told you I'll follow you anywhere, Aela," Aerenwen replied. "I'll happily join you in this journey."

Aela smiled widely and kissed the elf deeply. "I was afraid you might say no," she confessed after they broke apart. "I'd never fault you for making your own choices, nor would it change anything between us if you said no, but the thought of you joining me in this, of sharing the beastblood with you, of having that connection and hunting with you . . . I'd be lying if I said it didn't thrill me. And on a purely business-related note, you will make a valuable addition to the Circle. This group could certainly use your guidance."

"I love you, Aela."

"I love you, Aerenwen."

* * *

The following night, Aerenwen stood in the narrow walkway between the outer walls of Jorrvaskr and the bottom of the stone ledge upon which the Skyforge was built. The previous night, Aerenwen had briefly met with Skjor, who had simply told her to meet him there after sundown the following day. Then she'd retired early and spent the bulk of the following day with Mari and Hamish.

She was tense. Though she was willingly accepting the beastblood and all that came with it, there was a fear of the unknown, and she knew there were dangers involved. She tapped her foot anxiously and watched as Skjor and Aela rounded the corner from behind Jorrvaskr. Aela simply winked at her as she pressed into a spot on the stone wall, causing a hidden panel in it to open, and disappeared inside.

"Are you ready, new blood?" the older man asked.

"Ready for what?" Aerenwen asked.

Skjor chuckled. "I know Aela has told you why I asked you to meet us here tonight," he replied. "There was once a lot more pomp and circumstance when someone was asked to join the circle, but you're aware of the old man's leanings at the moment. He disapproves of continuing the spread of the beast blood, but the way I see it, you'll make a valuable addition to the Circle, and we'd be honored to have you amongst us. It's been a long time since we've seen a heart like yours in a welp. You are aware of all joining the Circle entails and the consequences involved, so you are going into this willingly and not at all misled. What say you, girl? Do you wish to be one of us?"

Aerenwen nodded. "I do."

"Very well then," Skjor replied. "Let's continue inside. Aela should be ready for us."

Aerenwen followed the Nord warrior through the passageway, watching as he closed the secret entrance behind them. "What is this place?" she asked.

"We call it the Underforge," Skjor replied. "The Skyforge is ancient, and we've no idea what it was once used for, but for centuries it has been a place where the Circle could gather away from the prying eyes of the lesser members of the Companions who aren't even aware of its existence."

A narrow passageway cut through the stone opened into a small cavern. A large stone bowl, immense in size, sat upon a column cut directly into the stone at the center of the room. Beside it stood a werewolf. Even if she hadn't seen Aela enter the Underforge, she would have recognized her. Though her eyes were bigger and a bit more narrow, they were still the eyes of the woman she loved. Aerenwen slowly approached the werewolf, staring in awe at her long reddish brown fur. She tentatively reached out a hand and caressed the side of the tall werewolf's face. Aela let out a slight wine and nuzzled against her open palm, causing Aerenwen to smile.

"The beastblood is a blessing from Hircine," Skjor stated, interrupting their moment. "With it, you will be stronger, faster, less vulnerable. You will sleep less and barely feel the cold. You will be able to communicate with your pack through your mind and to sense their presence. Your eyesight and sense of smell will be heightened as will your base instincts. You must learn to live in harmony with your beast. If you let it rule over you, you will lose yourself, but if you attempt to rule over it, it will rebel. The secret to being a strong and successful werewolf is to acknowledge your beast's presence within you, to give her free reign when she needs it, and in return, she will respect your human side as well. Aela has offered to share her blood with you and be your forebear. Are you ready, Aerenwen?"

Aerenwen nodded and watched as Skjor walked toward Aela, unsheathing his dagger. He slit the palm of the beast's large hand and held it over the bowl, allowing some of Aela's deep red blood to pool in it.

"Drink," he commanded.

Aerenwen stepped forward and placed her hands in the blood, cupping them together and pulling them toward her lips. She sipped, ignoring the fact that the hot, thick liquid she was drinking was blood and instead focusing upon the fact that this was a part of Aela that the other woman was sharing with her.

Soon, Aerenwen felt light headed. Her vision clouded, and she felt a pain like nothing she'd ever felt before. She cried out as the pain of her limbs and spine stretching overpowered her sensible thoughts. When she could think clearly again, the dark room seemed lighter somehow. She raised one of her arms in front of her and saw that it was now covered in a fur much like Aela's, just a bit more brown than red.

"Easy, love," Aela's voice spoke in her head. "The pain will ease as your body adjusts to the transformations. It won't always hurt."

Aerenwen tried to answer but all that came out of her mouth was a growl.

Aela's musical chuckle filled her thoughts. "Think it, love," she instructed. "Reach out to me in your mind. Find me, feel me, and speak to me through your thoughts."

"Like this?" Aerenwen questioned.

Aela the beast nodded. "Just like that," she replied proudly. "You can communicate with any of our pack like this. Even when we aren't in beast form." She approached Aerenwen and nuzzled her neck. "Are you ready to hunt, my love?"

An excitement at the thought filled Aerenwen, a deep instinct to hunt down prey that she had never felt before, and she whined audibly at it.

Again, Aela's chuckles filled her thoughts. "Follow me."

She followed Aela down a different passageway and jumped down when she reached the end of it, finding herself at a secret entrance built into the walls of Whiterun. The drop had been a big one and climbing up it would be impossible for a human, so she realized this hidden entrance posed no danger on the city but allowed for the werewolves of the Circle to leave its walls undetected.

"Run, love," Aela said, and Aerenwen could hear the smile in her voice.

* * *

The pain was still there when Aerenwen returned to her human form several hours later though it was already less than it had been before. She realized she stood in the woods, completely naked, and glanced around, seeing Aela perched on a rock nearby already in her full armor. Her memories of her time as a beast came back to her, and she remembered them curling around each other beside the rocks after running and hunting together for hours.

"Finally," Aela muttered with a frown. "I was beginning to think you'd never come back to us. Yours was not an easy transformation. I feared the worst. There are those who shift and never return to their human form. Although it is rare, it took so long, I was afraid you may be one of those."

"How long does it usually last?" Aerenwen asked.

Aela approached her and wrapped her arms around her naked lover. "Eventually, as you have learned the ways of the transformations and adjusted to them, you can call on them whenever you wish and make them last as briefly, or as long, as you would like them to, but the first few times last a bit longer. You haven't learned how to put the beast to rest yet, and it's never eager to go back into its cage. I will teach you, love."

Aerenwen kissed her. She could feel the cold, though not nearly as badly as she would have before. "Do you have my clothes?"

Aela nodded with a chuckle and went to retrieve them from beneath a rock. "We always carry extras with us. I keep a set in my saddle bag, and I also have a few hidden in various caches around Whiterun, but usually I try to return to the Underforge before reverting back. I hid these here for you this morning, knowing we would end our hunt here instead of back home."

"Where are we?" Aerenwen asked.

"In the mountains about halfway between Whiterun and Windhelm, north of the White River," Aela replied.

"Why here?" the elf wondered as she dressed.

"There's an old fort nearby," Aela replied, "called Gallows Rock. A group of Silver Hand have made their camp nearby. They're led by a particularly cruel woman they call 'The Skinner'."

Aerenwen cringed at the implications behind the nickname.

"We're going to take them out," Aela continued. "Skjor has gone on ahead. I told him not to, but he was impatient and promised to practice caution."

Aerenwen could see how anxious her lover was to join her mentor, so she quickly finished securing her armor and weapons and followed Aela through the woods. Soon the fort was visible through the darkness, and Aerenwen marveled at her improved night vision.

They took out three Silver Hand warriors camped around the outside of the fort and made their way inside where they found metal bars obstructing the way further into the bowels of the fort.

"They must have locked this place down when Skjor charged in," Aela commented. She found the release that lowered the bars, and they continued their way through the fort.

In each room they entered, they killed at least two Silver Hand. In the fourth room, Aela looked at Aerenwen in concern. "I'm worried."

Aerenwen nodded in agreement. If Skjor had gone this way, they wouldn't have encountered any living Silver Hand, or, at the least, they would have come across the remains of some of his victims, yet they hadn't. All the Silver Hand they had encountered were alive and well and clearly surprised at their appearance.

In the final room of the fort, they encountered The Skinner, and though she put up a bit more of a fight than the others, especially with her enchanted war axe, Aela and Aerenwen were still able to take her down. They entered the room, and Aerenwen glanced around, seeing the remains of many werewolves, some in beast form, some not, scattered about the room.

"NO!"

Her thoughts were interrupted by the heart-wrenching scream of her lover. The Nord warrior was kneeling on the ground over Skjor's lifeless body, clutching his large hand in her own.

Aerenwen ran to her side and knelt behind her, wrapping an arm around Aela's shoulders as the redhead sobbed.

"He was one of the strongest amongst us," Aela whispered, "but numbers can overwhelm. He should not have come here without a shield-sibling. I told you not to come in here alone, you damn old fool!" Aela threw her bow across the room in anger.

Aerenwen sat silently beside her grieving lover, providing whatever support she could by her mere presence. A part of her felt this was her fault. If her transformation hadn't taken so long, Skjor wouldn't have grown impatient, and they all would have been together. But the rational side of her knew she hadn't had any control over the timing and that it really wasn't her fault. She knew Aela would take some of the blame upon herself as well, wishing she'd tried harder to prevent him from going on ahead.

After some time, Aela stood and retrieved her bow. "We need to get him out of here," she told Aerenwen.

Aerenwen nodded and stood. She took his legs, and Aela took his arms. Though he was heavy, their beastblood gave them the strength to carry his body out of the fort. They laid him in the snow outside while they scavenged through the Silver Hand's supplies. They found some pieces of leather and were able to secure them to two long branches. They laid Skjor on their makeshift stretcher. It would be a long walk back to Whiterun carrying him, but they wouldn't leave such a great warrior behind for bandits, beasts, or Silver Hand to desecrate. He deserved a proper burial.

* * *

It had taken the women all day to make the trip back to Whiterun carrying Skjor's body on the stretcher. As they made their way through the streets of their home city, the townsfolk looked on somberly and bowed their heads in respect at the fallen warrior. They made it back to Jorrvaskr and entered the great hall. The usual din that filled the room in the evening hours immediately silenced as their fellow Companions looked on in shock as the two women laid the once-thought invincible old warrior on the floor beside the fire pit.

"Skjor has fallen to the Silver Hand," Aela stated.

Farkas approached, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and stood between the two women, wrapping a heavy arm around each of them and pulling them into his sides. They each wrapped an arm around his waist, holding each other's forearms behind his back. Soon they were joined by Vilkas and Kodlak.

"I will make the preparations for a proper funeral at the Skyforge tomorrow at dusk," Kodlak stated, the sadness in his voice evident. "Tonight we go our separate ways to mourn our fallen brother as we see fit," he said, speaking in a louder voice to insure that all members of the Companions could hear him. "Tomorrow night we give our brother a farewell worthy of his greatness."

* * *

"How far did you have to carry him?" Farkas asked later when he joined Aerenwen on the steps in front of Jorrvaskr.

"From Gallow's Rock," she replied.

Farkas nodded with respect. That was a long way to carry a body on foot.

"I'm worried about Aela," Aerenwen commented. Her lover had asked to be alone after their return, but Aerenwen couldn't seem to pull herself too far away from the grieving woman and return to her house.

"You know how she is," Farkas replied. "She keeps to herself and doesn't always deal with emotions. I can guarantee her sadness will be buried by anger. We just need to be there for her, Little Ren, and not let her push us away."

"She told me she wanted to be alone tonight," Aerenwen replied, "but I can't leave her."

Farkas shook his head. "She's just saying that because she doesn't want you to see her hurting. She's not used to letting people see her in a vulnerable state, but you two are in this for the long haul, and she needs you, whether she wants to admit it or not. Go to her. Don't let her take her emotions out on you."

Aerenwen smiled and hugged her shield-brother. "You're very wise, you know that, Farkas?"

The large man chuckled and shushed her. "Don't tell anyone my secret, Little Ren," he teased. "I'd hate to ruin my all brawn and no brains reputation."

Aerenwen chuckled and stood, making her way inside. Downstairs, she quietly let herself into Aela's chambers, ignoring the curious glances Njada and Ria sent her way. She found the woman who owned her heart lying on her bed, still fully armored, facing the wall in the fetal position. She quietly removed her boots and weapons and laid down behind Aela, wrapping an arm around the other woman's waist and pressing herself against her back.

Aela began to protest, but Aerenwen interrupted her.

"Don't, Aela," she stated firmly. "We don't have to talk, but don't make me leave you when you're hurting. I'm always here, love. Lean on me."

She felt Aela sigh and relax before sobs began to wrack her body. Aerenwen held her tightly as she cried, and the Huntress finally fell into a fitful sleep.


	23. Vengeance

Chapter Three: Vengeance (Morndas/Turdas/Loredas/Sundas, 6th/16th/18th/19th of Frostfall)

The next day at dusk, the entirety of the Companions as well as several citizens of Whiterun, stood atop the Skyforge to honor Skjor. His body lay fully armored atop a wooden pyre built upon the open forge. His hands were placed on his chest, holding the hilt of his sword. The only thing missing was his dagger. Traditionally the Companion's dagger was given to his or her surviving family. Kodlak had presented it to Aela at the beginning of the ceremony.

Now she stood, silently, holding the dagger in one hand and a lit torch in the other as Kodlak spoke. Aerenwen stood at her side. "Skjor was one of the best of us. Before joining the ranks of the Companions, he served as a soldier, earning glory as a valiant servant in the Great War. He served as a Companion for a quarter century and led us as a member of the Circle for almost as long. He stood for glory and honor, and I am proud to have called him a brother and a friend. Now I ask that the Circle join me as we send our brother on to Sovngarde."

"Before the ancient flame . . ." Vilkas stated.

"We grieve," the members of the Circle finished.

"At this loss . . ." Aela spoke.

"We weep," the others joined.

"For the fallen . . ." Farkas called out.

"We shout," the others joined.

"And for ourselves . . ." Aerenwen said, garnering surprised looks from many gathered who had not realized she had been inducted into the Circle.

"We take our leave," the others finished.

Aela stepped forward, using her torch to light Skjor's funeral pyre. She turned and wrapped her arms around Aerenwen, burying her face in the taller woman's neck. Aerenwen wrapped her own arms around Aela's shoulders and held her tightly. After a time, she pulled away.

"I'm going for a walk," she told Aerenwen. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Of course," the elf replied. "Promise you'll be safe?"

Aela nodded and leaned up, placing a soft kiss on her lover's lips. This surprised Aerenwen, as although the crowd had begun to scatter, most members of the Companions were still gathered around, and she felt the surprised eyes on them.

Aela walked away, and it wasn't long before Ria approached her. Njada and Athis trailed behind her.

"So you're a member of the Circle now, huh?" Ria asked.

Aerenwen nodded. "Is that a problem?" she asked, her eyes on Njada instead of the woman who had addressed her.

"Not at all," Ria replied.

"I'd say you've earned it," Njada added, much to Aerenwen's surprise.

"And you and Aela are . . ." Ria trailed off.

"None of your concern," Aerenwen answered.

"But she and Skjor . . ."

Aerenwen shook her head. "Those were rumors started by a jealous former Companion. There was never any truth to it. Skjor was like a father to Aela, and I hope you will all give her the respect any grieving daughter deserves." With that, she turned and joined Mari who had stayed for the funeral and was standing near the stairs. "Let's go home, sister."

That night, as Aela and Aerenwen lay together in her bed at her home, Aerenwen worried over her lover. She arrived late - close to midnight. The others had all retired for the night. Mari, who had been sleeping with her sister while visiting, had taken Hamish's bed, and the boy was on a bed roll on the floor in his room. Aela hadn't spoken since arriving, though the two had made love well into the night. She finally broke the silence.

"The Silver Hand will tremble at my sight," she stated fiercely. "I will have revenge for Skjor."

Aerenwen sighed and brushed a lock of red head away from her lover's face. "I understand your desire for vengeance, Aela," she replied, "but I worry at the consequences."

"Consequences be damned," Aela answered. "The Silver Hand are vile. They kill indiscriminately based only on the fact that their victim is a werewolf. They don't care for the nature of the person they kill or what heartbreak they are causing, and they have hunted us long enough."

Aerenwen nodded. She understood where Aela was coming from, and on some level, she agreed with her. She also realized it was the Nord's anger and grief making the decisions now, but she wasn't going to let her do this alone. "I'll help you."

"You don't need to, Aerenwen," Aela replied. "I can't ask you to do this. These raids will not be official Companions' business, and Kodlak and Vilkas cannot know."

"You're not doing it alone, Aela," Aerenwen insisted. "You taught me not to go into situations like this without a shield-sibling. Skjor did although he knew better, and I won't have the same thing happen to you. I will fight at your side. Promise me you will not take them on alone."

Aela nodded. "I promise."

* * *

Over the next two weeks, the two warriors conducted their acts of vengeance in secret between official Companions' business. Mari had left, and Aerenwen made sure not to be gone for more than a night at a time for Hamish's sake. Although she knew within herself what they were doing was far beyond vengeance, and she feared the consequences of their actions, somehow their actions against the Silver Hand brought the two women even closer together.

On Turdas of the second week of their missions, two weeks after she had left Kynesgrove, Aerenwen needed to go meet Delphine.

"Do not let Aela leave Jorrvaskr," she ordered Farkas before she left that afternoon.

"Why not?" he asked, looking up from his plate.

"Do you know what we've been doing when we haven't been on official business?" she asked.

The large man shrugged. "I figured you were taking the fight to the Silver Hand," he replied. "You're avenging Skjor."

Aerenwen nodded.

"Vilkas and Kodlak don't approve. They think you're both blinded by grief," Farkas continued, "but we all grieve in different ways, and the Silver Hand are bad people."

"Yes, but in a way your brother and Kodlak are right," Aerenwen replied. "Aela is completely ruled by her anger right now. I'm following her, frankly, because I fear if I didn't, she'd take them on alone."

"That would not be smart," Farkas stated.

"It wouldn't," Aerenwen agreed, "but our girl isn't exactly thinking straight right now. I need to go to Riverwood on some Dragonborn business. I'll be back tonight, and I made her promise to remain here while I was gone, but I don't trust her. Usually, she would insist on going to this meeting with me, but she's so caught up in her vengeance that she didn't even suggest it. I'm certain, despite her promise, that she will try to head out this evening whether I'm here to go with her or not, and that cannot happen."

"You have my word," Farkas promised. "She will remain here while you're gone even if I have to knock her out and lock her in her room to make sure of it."

Aerenwen smiled and affectionately rubbed Farkas on his shoulder. "Thank you, brother."

* * *

Delphine was waiting for Aerenwen when she arrived at the Sleeping Giant Inn late that afternoon. She quietly led Aerenwen downstairs to her hidden war room and stood across the table from her.

"I've figured out how we're going to get into the Thalmor Embassy," the older woman stated.

"How?" Aerenwen asked.

"The Thalmor Ambassador, Elenwen, regularly throws parties where the rich and connected cozy up to the Thalmor," Delphine replied. "One of those parties is in just over a week, and I can get you in."

"How?" Aerenwen wondered.

"I have a contact, Malborn," Delphine replied. "He works the bar at the Thalmor parties, and he's procured you an invitation. You arrive at the party as a legitimate guest. Once you're in, he'll sneak you out of the reception room. You find your way to the embassy offices and see what you can find. I imagine anything we desire would be in Elenwen's office, but who knows what else of value you could find?"

"Can we trust this Malborn?"

Delphine nodded. "I've worked with him before. He's a wood elf and has plenty of reason to hate the Thalmor. He's not up for this kind of high risk mission, but he's gotten information for me before, and I trust him implicitly."

"When is this party?"

Delphine passed her the invitation. "Loredas the 25th of Frostfall."

Aerenwen glanced over the invitation. It was obviously official and even had her name on it.

"I'll arrange for Malborn to meet you at noon on the day of the party at the Winking Skeever in Solitude," Delphine instructed. "You know it?"

Aerenwen shook her head. "I've yet to visit Solitude."

"The Winking Skeever is the inn," Delphine explained. "Nice place. Always busy. You'll be able to meet him there without arising any suspicion."

"Should I get a room for the night while I'm there?" Aerenwen asked.

Delphine shook her head. "Not unless you arrive in Solitude before that day. If you are discovered at the embassy and make it out alive, you won't want to stay nearby. It's probably best you leave the area as soon as you've completed the mission. I'll meet you at the stables outside the city at four in the afternoon. You'll leave for the party from there, and I'll wait for you until midnight. If you aren't back by then, I'll need to leave to avoid us both getting caught."

"This sounds like it could be a suicide mission," Aerenwen commented dryly.

"Let's not let that happen," Delphine insisted. "You're good - Dragonborn and a high ranking Companion, and I've seen you in action. Just do your best to remain undetected. Get the information and get out. I'll see you in Solitude next week."

Aerenwen made her way back to Whiterun, thinking her sisters would kill her if they knew she was sneaking into the Thalmor Embassy alone and knowing that Aela definitely would.

* * *

"Absolutely not! Are you fucking insane?!" Aela exclaimed. The two were alone in Aela's chambers at Jorrvaskr, and though it had been two days since her meeting with Delphine, it was the first she had told Aela of their plan.

"We need that information, Aela," Aerenwen replied calmly. "It's risky, yes, but it's the only way."

"I'm going with you," the huntress insisted.

"That's impossible," Aerenwen answered. "I have an invitation to the party. I'm on the official guest list. It's too late to have you added, and it would be more difficult to sneak the two of us out of the party."

Aela glared at her. "Fine," she relented, "but I'm coming to Solitude with you. I'll wait with Delphine, and if you haven't returned by midnight, I'm not leaving like that milk-drinker is going to. I will come looking for you."

"Aela, you can't do that," Aerenwen insisted.

"And I can't sit idly by if you're taken prisoner by the Thalmor," the Nord replied. "You told me what they did to your brother and that was just for being a member of a group that spoke out against them. I don't want to imagine the things they would do to you for sneaking through their confidential files."

"Alright," Aerenwen conceded, knowing the other woman would never take no for an answer.

Aela stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I think Kodlak is on to us," she stated with a frown. "He spread the word that he wanted to see you before you left again."

Aerenwen sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. When had things started getting so complicated?

"Want some advice?" Aela asked. "Always be honest with the old man but don't tell him anything he doesn't need to know."

Aerenwen nodded and bent to give the woman a quick kiss before leaving the room.

She found Kodlak sitting at the desk in his study.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, have a seat," he stated, standing and moving over to the two chairs at the small table across the room. Aerenwen joined him, sitting in the other chair. "You have been busy of late," he commented.

"I've had some Dragonborn business outside of the usual Companion errands," she replied.

"Yes, I know," the old man answered, "but I am referring to your missions with Aela. I know what you girls have been up to, lass."

"Aela seeks vengeance for Skjor," Aerenwen replied.

"I know that she grieves," Kodlak stated. "We all do. My own heart weeps at the loss of Skjor, but his death was avenged long ago. You have taken more lives than honor demanded. This cycle of retaliation may continue for some time."

"I cannot let her take them on alone," Aerenwen insisted.

Kodlak nodded. "You love her, and you honor her as a shield-sibling by having her back in battle. I commend you for that. But this business of sneaking around . . . it's above you both. Aela knows better, and I am certain you do, too."

Aerenwen was silent, not really knowing what to say. She agreed with the Harbinger, honestly, but if she stopped, Aela would not. She would only go alone, putting herself at unnecessary risk.

"Mind you, it isn't any of my business what each Companion does with his or her personal time," Kodlak added with a sigh. "I just wished to state my opinion on the matter. If anyone can get through to our fierce huntress, Aerenwen, it is you. Now tell me, how does your Dragonborn business go?"

"Alright," Aerenwen replied. "My contact and I have yet to discover exactly why the dragons are returning and if anyone in particular is behind it. I have a mission next weekend to hopefully gather some intel. I'll be away in Solitude for a few days."

"I assume Aela will be accompanying you."

"Not on the mission," Aerenwen replied. "That is something I must do alone, but she has stated she will travel to Solitude with me, so she will be nearby should something go afoul."

Kodlak nodded. "It comforts me that you two have each other. Our world is facing some difficult times. You are both valued here and loved, and it gives an old man some peace of mind to know you have each other's backs."

Aerenwen smiled. "Always."

Kodlak chuckled. "I suspect we'll all be traveling to Riften for a ceremony at the Temple of Mara before too long."

Aerenwen questioned him. "Do you mean marriage?"

"You're unfamiliar with our Nord customs of marriage, I gather?"

She nodded.

"When a person wishes to be wed, they wear an amulet of Mara," Kodlak explained. "The tradition began ages ago and has continued. It was a way to show prospective suitors that a woman was of age to be wed. If they were interested and saw the amulet, they would approach her and ask for her hand. This tradition continues, of course. Many marriages in Skyrim are still marriages of convenience, but even in matches that are based on love, the amulet is used. When you wish to show Aela you are ready to be her wife, wear the amulet. It may garner some unwanted attention from others who see it and wish to marry you," he added with a chuckle, "but it will also let her know you are ready. Priests of Mara officiate weddings. Sometimes you're lucky enough to find one who is traveling, but their home base is in Riften, so most folks travel there to be wed."

"How did it happen with you and Tilma?" Aerenwen asked.

Kodlak chuckled. "We'd tiptoed around it a bit. I was a headstrong warrior, and although I'd developed an affection for her during our frequent encounters around town, I never did much about it. She started wearing the amulet, and I was still too stubborn, or shy, I'm not sure which, to say anything. Then one night she showed up at Jorrvaskr. Townfolk visited our halls more frequently back then, and one of the other warriors approached her, commenting on the amulet. That woke me up, and I immediately interrupted them and stated my intentions before he had the chance."

Aerenwen smiled.

"Anyway, lass, the reason I called you here, was because I have an errand for you to run for me," Kodlak told her. "You remember what we discussed concerning how the Companions came to be werewolves and the witches who weren't completely upfront about the implications?"

Aerenwen nodded.

"I know you've joined us, and there are those of us who disagree with my search for a cure," the old man continued, "but I maintain, it should be a choice. I did not know when I took the blood that it would prevent me from entering Sovngarde, and I may not have chosen to take it then if I had known. Skjor will be happy spending eternity in Hircine's hunting grounds, but I would not. My old heart longs for Sovngarde. I wish to be cured, so that I may rest there with the heroes of old, and my wish is for others to have that option as well. Vilkas, Farkas, you, Aela, any future members . . . it's a choice. I don't wish to end the tradition of the beast blood amidst members of the Circle, I just wish for those same members to have a way out in the end if they don't wish to give their eternal soul to Hircine. And I've found it." He smiled. "The witches' magic ensnared us, and it is their magic that will set us free."

"I doubt they would willingly help us," Aerenwen commented.

"I agree with you," Kodlak replied. "They won't willingly give their aid, but we can take it, lass. I want you to hunt them down. Seek them out at their coven in the wilderness and strike them down like a true warrior of the wild. Bring me their heads - the seat of their power. Even after death, their magic will remain there and can be used in a ceremony to remove the beast that resides within us."

"How?" Aerenwen asked.

"By burning the head, the beast spirit will separate from your mortal body for a time," Kodlak replied. "By defeating your beast in battle, you earn your freedom."

"Where are these witches?"

"Glenmoril Coven," Kodlak answered. "It's in the mountains north of Falkreath. I can mark it on your map."

Aerenwen pulled out her well-worn map of Skyrim and handed it to the old man. He unfolded it and used a nearby quill to circle the cave.

"Do you have time to do this before your journey to Solitude?"

"Yes," Aerenwen replied, replacing her map in her small satchel and standing. "It will be done, Kodlak."

"Thank you, lass. Gods be with you."

* * *

"Where are you going again?" Aela asked.

"On an errand for Kodlak," Aerenwen replied. She was packing her saddlebag, and Aela had walked with her to the stables to say goodbye.

"You said that, but you didn't tell me where."

"Glenmoril Coven," Aerenwen answered.

Aela frowned. "But . . . are you unhappy with the beastblood? I thought . . ."

Aerenwen interrupted her. "I am happy with it, Aela, and I will gladly spend eternity hunting at your side in Hircine's realm. This is for Kodlak. He's an old man, love. The benefits of the beast blood no longer serve him, and he longs to spend his life after death in the halls of Sovngarde that he has dreamt of since he was a boy. If there is a way for him to make that happen, I am going to help him. He's not trying to force the cure on anyone, Aela. He wants it to be a choice. Just as Skjor allowed my decision to become a werewolf and all that it entailed to be a choice. I agree with him, not because I want it for myself, but because I do support the strengths the beast blood gives the members of the Circle. I don't feel it should condemn them to an afterlife they haven't been working toward, however."

Aela sighed. "You're right," she relented. "I get too defensive about this. I'm sorry. Would you like me to accompany you?"

"Don't you have a mission with Farkas?"

Aela nodded. "We leave after lunch but should be back before sundown. There's a group of bandits camped not far from here, and we're to take them out."

"And I will hopefully be back before nightfall," Aerenwen replied. She pulled Aela close to her.

"I was hoping tonight we could head to the Rift," Aela stated. "There's a Silver Hand encampment west of Shor's Stone."

"Aela, we need to stop," Aerenwen said sadly. "Enough is enough."

"We're avenging Skjor!" Aela argued.

"We avenged Skjor long ago, love," Aerenwen replied, holding her tighter as the other woman tried to pull away. "In truth, we avenged Skjor the night he died, taking the lives of the group of Silver Hand responsible for his death. We have killed scores more since then, and I'm beginning to fear the consequences, Aela. We've long surpassed vengeance and have acted dishonorably by doing so. They will retaliate. You know it as well as I. It's time to deal with your grief, my love, and stop hiding behind anger and revenge."

Aela blinked away some tears and sighed, leaning her head against Aerenwen. "You're right. I'm sorry I pulled you into all this."

"No apologies, love," Aerenwen replied. "I will follow you anywhere and never once regret it. But promise me you're done? You're not just saying it to pacify me?"

"I promise. I swear on my Companion's oath, on our love."

Aerenwen smiled and kissed her before mounting her horse.

"Be safe."

"Always."

* * *

The errand had taken Aerenwen longer than she had hoped. She ran into some trouble before even reaching the witches' cave when she encountered a group of bandits dressed as Imperial guards. They had overtaken a traveling caravan, and it took her a few hours off schedule to eliminate the bandit group and free the thankful hostages from the nearby mine.

She found the coven and discovered these witches were no longer mere witches but had achieved their immortality by becoming Hagravens. Hagravens, with their deadly claws and immensely powerful magic, posed a great threat, but thankfully, each of the Hagravens was in their own secluded sanctuary within the cave system, and she never had to take on more than one at a time.

Aerenwen left the cave, five Hagraven heads tied to her saddle, and made her way home.

Upon reaching Whiterun, she immediately knew something was amiss. The streets were bare, and the guards were on alert. She made her way to Jorrvaskr and was alarmed to see a group of citizens gathered on the plaza nearby, staring at the mead hall and talking anxiously amongst themselves.

Aela and Torvar stood outside the hall on guard, dead Silver Hand warriors at their feet.

"What happened?" Aerenwen asked as she rushed up the steps to Aela's side.

"The Silver Hand attacked," the Nord replied sadly. "They fooled the guards into thinking they were a group of mercenaries looking to stay at the inn, but they took us by surprise. It's bad, Aerenwen."

Aerenwen rushed inside and was immediately confronted by Vilkas.

"Where were you?!" he nearly roared.

"I was doing Kodlak's bidding," she replied.

"I hope it was important as it meant you weren't here to defend him," the tall, slender Nord replied angrily.

Aerenwen looked passed him and saw Kodlak's dead body lying on the floor beside the fire. Farkas and Ria were comforting a grieving Tilma who sobbed over her husband's corpse.

"What errand did he send you on?" Vilkas asked.

Aerenwen held up the witches' heads in response.

Vilkas sighed. "I'm sorry for my harshness. I . . . they took us by surprise, and the old man . . ."

"It's alright. I understand. I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"You were doing as the old man wanted," Vilkas answered. "You had no way of knowing."

"But I was too late," Aerenwen replied sadly. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Athis was wounded but will be fine," Vilkas replied. "Njada is seeing to his injuries. We are going to clean up the mess here. They stole the fragments. You and I strike out at first light."

"Where are we going?"

"North," Vilkas replied. "The Silver Hand's base is south of Dawnstar. They attack our base, we attack theirs. We will have vengeance for Kodlak and retrieve the fragments of Wuuthrad."

Aerenwen sighed but nodded. When would the cycle of vengeance end?


	24. The Silver Hand Falls

Chapter Four: The Silver Hand Falls (Morndas/Tirdas, 20th/21st of Frostfall)

The trip to Driftshade Refuge was long and silent. Vilkas, like his brother, did not like traveling by horseback, but he had secured the two warriors passage aboard a carriage to Dawnstar. They had called for the driver to stop just as the road veered left to avoid an old fort, and they'd jumped, making the rest of the trip on foot. From there, they had traveled around the abandoned fort and into the mountains.

Driftshade Refuge was an old military outpost that appeared to have been abandoned for a long time. The remnants of walls and buildings stood amongst the trees and only one small building remained standing. However, upon entering it, Aerenwen could see the old fort had been built deep into the ground and was quite large. It was a network of stone tunnels between rooms, stairways, caverns, and prison cells, many of which contained dead werewolves.

Since joining the Companions, Aerenwen had never fought alongside Vilkas, and he was certainly a great warrior. He moved with fluidity as he took down foe after foe. Aerenwen followed his lead.

Vilkas and Aerenwen showed no mercy, taking out every Silver Hand they came across. After a few hours, they stepped out onto the snow covered hillside, corpses filling the fortress behind them, blood staining their armor and skin, and the fragments of Wuuthrad in a satchel slung over Vilkas's shoulder.

"Do you think there are many of them left around Skyrim?" Aerenwen asked as they made their way south.

"Not many," Vilkas replied. "You and Aela have seen to that. I'm sure there are scattered remnants that remain, but hopefully the destruction of their leader and main base of operations will leave them in such a state of disorder, they won't recover. We should have done this long ago, but the old man didn't want it. Though I sought to avenge him by doing this, I'm sure he disapproves."

"From what I've seen, the Silver Hand are no better than the common bandits we dispose of regularly," Aerenwen replied. "What we did today was well-deserved."

Vilkas simply nodded. "You fought well today, Shield-Sister. I had heard of your skill from my brother and the others, but I now see for myself that you are more than worthy to be one of us."

Aerenwen smiled slightly at the compliment.

"Let's hurry," Vilkas stated, picking up his pace. "We have a long walk back to Whiterun. I imagine the others are making preparations for Kodlak's funeral tomorrow."

* * *

It was well after midnight before the two warriors returned to Jorrvaskr. Aerenwen had desired to take her beast form, which would have made the journey pass by much faster, but she knew Vilkas had not transformed for months, so she hadn't even brought it up.

The whole of Jorrvaskr was wide awake when they arrived. Aela rushed to Aerenwen's side and embraced her, then inspected her for any visible injuries. There were a few, though none fatal, aside from the fact that they had been inflicted by silver weapons, and the elf could already feel the poison working its way into her body.

Aela quickly led her love to a chair in the corner and saw to her injuries, applying the poultice to the silver wounds and instructing the other woman to drink a healing potion. Aerenwen did as she was told and then happily dug into the plate of food Aela sat in front of her.

Their return was celebrated, and every member of the Companions approached them at least once to hear of their battle and congratulate them on their success.

"Come," Aela said, pulling Aerenwen away after she'd finished eating. "I wish for you to meet someone."

Aerenwen nodded and followed the Nord woman down the stairs to the living quarters. There, they made their way to the Harbinger's office where Tilma sat surrounded by people Aerenwen did not recognize.

"Ah, Aerenwen, I'm glad you have returned well," Tilma stated as she stood and embraced the much taller woman. "Kodlak had a special place in his heart for you, you know? He thought highly of you and truly believed you have important things to do here. But we will talk more of that tomorrow. Let me introduce you to my children." Tilma took Aerenwen's hand and pulled her further into the room. "This is my son, Balimund," she stated, gesturing toward a large man who reminded Aerenwen a bit of Alvor though she could certainly see his resemblance to his father. "He chose not to follow in his father's footsteps and, instead, trained under Eorlund. He runs a blacksmith shop in Riften."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Aerenwen," he stated with a smile as he shook her hand. "I've heard a lot about you from my mother."

Aerenwen smiled. "I have a sister who lives in Riften," she told him.

He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Her name is Nesta."

Balimund smiled. "Your sister is a good woman. She's a familiar face around my forge and even tracked me down some fire salts when I had need for them. I can't say all of her friends are the finest folks, but she's a fine lass."

Aerenwen smiled and turned toward the next person Tilma was introducing her to.

"This is Hillevi, our middle child, and her husband, Torsten Cruel-Sea," she told her. "And that," she stated with a nod toward a small boy sleeping on a bed roll in the corner, "is my only grandson, Grimvar. They own a home in Windhelm and a farm outside of the city. Torsten manages the farm, and Hillevi runs a stall in the market."

Hillevi and Torsten both shook Aerenwen's hand. Hillevi resembled her mother a great deal, just much younger with blonde hair rather than white. She was an attractive woman, and Torsten was a good-looking man, with light brown hair tied at the nape of his neck and a close-trimmed beard.

"I have a sister in Windhelm as well," Aerenwen told them. "Elain?"

To her surprise, Hillevi gasped, and Torsten grinned from ear to ear. "We know Elain well," he told her. "Our daughter was killed during the summer months. There was a murderer in Windhelm, and she was one of his victim's. Elain brought justice to our city again."

"She told me about all that, though I wasn't aware that Kodlak's granddaughter was one of the victims," Aerenwen replied. "Was she, by any chance, the one who was robbed afterward?"

Torsten nodded. "The other sister you spoke of, Nesta, retrieved her necklace for us from a band of thieves outside Windhelm."

This surprised Aerenwen. "It seems my sisters are making friends everywhere."

The others chuckled.

"I have an adopted son who I would guess to be just a bit younger than Grimvar," she told them, glancing over at the sleeping boy. "If you would like for Hamish to keep him company while you're in the city, I can bring him to Jorrvaskr in the morning. He's always happy to make a new friend, and he's, unfortunately, quite familiar with loss. His parents were killed at Helgen, and he was one of the few survivors."

"The poor dear," Hillevi commented. "Please, if you don't mind, I'm sure that would please our boy greatly. It would be good for him to have some opportunity for play during all the serious adult business."

Aerenwen nodded.

"And this is my youngest, Una," Tilma stated, pulling Aerenwen's attention toward a very attractive blonde woman who was the perfect mix of both her parents. Una looked to be around twenty years old and smiled sweetly at Aerenwen. "Una works at the Blue Palace in Solitude," the old woman stated proudly.

Una chuckled. "You make it sound important, Mama. I'm just a servant."

Tilma scoffed.

"I've heard a great deal about you, Aerenwen," Una said with a smile as she shook her hand. "I know your brother Steffen, and he speaks of his sisters a great deal."

Aerenwen smiled. "Is Steffen well? I haven't had the opportunity to visit since we were separated upon arriving to Skyrim. I think of him often."

"He is very well," Una replied. "I met him through a friend, a vendor in the city who sells a delicious spiced wine, her own recipe. He's doing well in his studies and is quite close with a young woman named Ildi. They claim to be friends, but I will be surprised if it doesn't develop into more soon. I will tell him you asked after him when I return to the city."

"Please do," Aerenwen replied, "and if you could, please tell him I will be in Solitude for a brief time soon and would like to see him. Aela and I should arrive on Fridas."

"I will tell him," Una answered. "He will be pleased."

After some small talk with Kodlak's children, Aerenwen and Aela left the family alone, but only after the elf promised Tilma she would meet with her after breakfast. She wondered what the old woman had to tell her, but knew she would find out soon enough, so she didn't waste much energy thinking about it. The two women made their way to Aerenwen's home and fell into bed together, their hearts heavy after the events of the last few days.

* * *

Aerenwen and Aela chose to break their fast with Hamish and Lydia rather than returning to Jorrvaskr right away. Aela then sat at the table in the back corner of the small home and began to restring her bow. Hamish was intrigued, and Aerenwen smiled as he climbed up onto the other woman's lap, and she instructed him on how to do it.

"How old are you, Hamish?" the Huntress asked.

"Six winters," he replied.

"After another winter, you'll be the same age I was when my Da first began taking me on hunting trips," she stated. "Would you like to learn to hunt?"

The young boy nodded eagerly.

"Alright," Aela answered with a soft smile and a chuckle at his enthusiasm. "We'll plan on it then. Come spring, I'll start teaching you."

The idea pleased Aerenwen as much as it had the child. Although she knew within her heart that Aela was in her life for good and wasn't going anywhere, hearing her speak of a future with her son, made their similar desire all the more apparent.

The elf waved goodbye and headed for Jorrvaskr to meet Tilma. She found the old woman alone in Kodlak's quarters and was instructed to take a seat. Instead of Kodlak sitting opposite the small table from her, it was Tilma, and the frail, old woman passed a worn, leather book to the elf.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's Kodlak's journal," his wife replied. "Read it, child. It will explain things much better than I would be able to."

Aerenwen nodded and stood, returning home where she sat beside the fire and read. Aela joined her after a time.

"What's that?" the huntress wondered.

"Kodlak's journal," Aerenwen replied. "Tilma told me to read it. She said it would explain things."

"Did it?"

The elf nodded. "Kodlak dreamt of me," she explained. "It's odd, but it's as if some higher power told him in his dreams that I would come and help him find the cure he sought." She closed the journal and leaned back, staring into the fire deep in thought.

"What else?" Aela asked. "There's obviously more."

"He grieved Skjor and respected the bond you and I have found," she replied. "He felt I was to be the next Harbinger."

Aela's eyes widened. "Truly?"

"Read for yourself," Aerenwen answered. She opened the journal up to the correct passage and handed it to the other woman.

After reading, Aela sighed. "I can't say I fault his logic," she stated after a time. "I'm too hotheaded as is Vilkas. We would both lack the diplomacy needed to manage the Companions, and Farkas doesn't have a mind for numbers when it comes to the finances. You really are the best choice, and you would make a good leader. You're a fierce warrior but levelheaded. The others already respect you. The old man was right."

"Then why are you frowning?" Aerenwen asked.

"I hate to see the burden of all the responsibility that has been cast onto your shoulders," Aela replied. "You're the Dragonborn. Everyone is looking toward you to solve this dragon menace, and I watch you struggle with the responsibility of it all. To add the role of Harbinger . . . that's a lot, Aerenwen. The Harbinger's presence is demanded at Jorrvaskr, so they are available as a figurehead of the organization and for counsel to its members. You already have so little freedom with all the Dragonborn errands, and your responsibilities here . . . I just hate to see you burdened, my love."

Aerenwen nodded and smiled softly. "It is a lot, but it would be an honor to hold the position. I just worry that with all the times I am called away right now because of Dragonborn business, I will not live up to the expectations."

Aela knelt in front of Aerenwen and took her hands. "You could never not live up to the expectations, Aerenwen. You . . . everything about you . . . you are the Harbinger. It's as if you were born to fill that role. And until all this Dragonborn business is figured out and sorted, the rest of the Circle will help in your absence. You're not alone in this, love."

* * *

Once again, the area surrounding the Skyforge was full of people. This time, even the Jarl was in attendance. Balimund held the torch as well as his mother's hand as she clutched Kodlak's dagger to her chest.

In the absence of a Harbinger, the eldest Companion, Vignar Gray-Mane, stepped forward. "Kodlak stood for what every Nord should - bravery, loyalty, and honor. He fought as a mercenary and then served as a Companion for many years. I was a young man when he joined us, and when he took his place as Harbinger, he brought stability to the group. Before Kodlak, our Harbinger changed far too frequently. He treated his shield-brothers and shield-sisters as family. Kodlak was everything a Harbinger should be. He brought honor to us all. Now I ask that the Circle join me as we send our brother on to Sovngarde."

"Before the ancient flame . . ." Vilkas stated.

"We grieve," the members of the Circle finished.

"At this loss . . ." Aela spoke.

"We weep," the others joined.

"For the fallen . . ." Farkas called out.

"We shout," the others joined.

"And for ourselves . . ." Aerenwen said.

"We take our leave," the others finished.

Balimund stepped forward and lit the pyre, and the gathered group watched in silence as the flames engulfed their Harbinger.

After a period of quiet, Vilkas spoke. "Now we all go our separate ways. Members of the Circle, please gather in the Underforge that we may discuss our next steps."

* * *

Aerenwen was exhausted. Her head hurt, she was tired of all the grief over the last weeks, and frankly, she was ready to wring her fellow Circle members' necks, even Aela's. Rather than a productive discussion, their meeting in the Underforge following the funeral had turned into an argument.

"The old man had one wish before he died, and he didn't get it," Vilkas nearly growled out. "It's as simple as that."

"Being moon-born is not so much of a curse as you might think, Vilkas," Aela argued.

"That's fine for you," he answered with a frown, "but he wanted to be clean. He wanted to meet Ysgramor and know the glories of Sovngarde. All that was taken from him."

"And you avenged him," Aela stated.

Aerenwen groaned and met eyes with Farkas.

"Kodlak did not care for vengeance," her friend stated, the first time the large man had spoken since their arrival in the Underforge.

"No, he didn't," Vilkas agreed, "and that's not what this is about. We should be honoring Kodlak, no matter our own thoughts on the blood."

Aela glanced at Aerenwen and sighed. "You're right. It's what he wanted, and he deserves to have it."

"Kodlak used to speak of a way to cleanse his soul, even in death," Vilkas commented with a glance toward Aerenwen.

"He told me by burning one of the witches' heads that I retrieved, his soul could be set free," she replied. "But how do we know where his soul is? Wouldn't it have already been claimed by Hircine?"

Aela shook her head. "Ysgramor's Tomb - there the souls of the Harbingers will heed the call of northern steel before they cross over to their next realm," she explained. "His soul would be there, at least for a time, but we can't even enter the tomb without Wuuthrad, and it's in pieces, like it has been for a thousand years."

The group had been so deep in their discussion, they hadn't noticed Eorlund's arrival.

"And dragons were just stories," the old man stated, emerging from the shadows into the center of the cavern. "And the elves once ruled Skyrim. Just because something is, doesn't mean it must be. The blade is a weapon. A tool. Tools are meant to be broken and repaired." He held up a massive and ornate battle axe.

"Is that?" Vilkas gasped. "Did you repair the blade?"

"This is the first time I've had all the pieces," he replied. "The flames of a hero can reforge the shattered. The flames of Kodlak shall fuel the rebirth of Wuuthrad, and now it will take you to meet him once more. As the one who killed the witches, I think you should be the one to carry Wuuthrad into battle," he stated, passing the weapon to Aerenwen.

She held it in two hands and was surprised by its weight. It was much lighter than she expected. The Skyforge certainly worked miracles.

"Prepare to journey to the Tomb of Ysgramor," Vilkas ordered. "I will secure us a carriage to leave at first light. For Kodlak!"

The others echoed his war cry and went their separate ways to prepare for their journey.


	25. Ysgramor's Tomb

Chapter Five: Ysgramor's Tomb (Middas/Turdas, 22nd/23rd of Frostfall)

It was nearly dinnertime when the group of Companions arrived in Winterhold. Aerenwen gazed around in shock at the state of the town, remembering Aela's story of how it had once been a great city but had fallen into the sea. Now there were only a handful of buildings that appeared inhabitable. The rest were ruins. The great college of mage's stood at the end of the road, reachable only by a series of narrow stone bridges. The architecture of the college, from what she could tell through the snow squall, was beautiful and ornate, and the building looked like a giant fortress on the sea. She wondered if her sister had made it there yet.

The group didn't stop in Winterhold. Instead, they hurried down the road, garnering the attention of the townsfolk. Aerenwen heard whispers of "Companions" and "Ysgramor's Tomb" as she followed Vilkas down the slick, icy road.

Near the entrance to the college, Vilkas led them down a narrow path which traversed the cliffside and arrived at the snow-covered coastline. The tomb was located on an island to the north. Aerenwen watched in surprise as the brothers waded in up to their waists and began to swim through the icy water in full armor. Couldn't they have hired a boat? She glanced at Aela who, much to her surprise, was already knee-deep in the water as well.

"I'm not swimming," Aerenwen insisted.

"We don't have time to secure a boat, Ren," Aela replied. "We don't know how long Kodlak's spirit will remain here. Days have already passed."

"I'm not a Nord, Aela," the elf replied. She gazed out at the areas of the water that were actually frozen over, little islands of ice bobbing in the waves. "That water will kill me."

Aela frowned. She hadn't thought of that. "Perhaps the beastblood will be enough?"

"I doubt it," Aerenwen answered. She surveyed the landscape and realized there was a smaller island between where she stood and their destination. She took a deep breath and shouted.

"Wuld!"

Thanks to her shout, she arrived on the small island. Another shout had her standing at the edge of the frigid water on the island that housed the tomb. She stood patiently, glancing out over the sea as she waited for her friends to arrive, smirking slightly as they all frowned at her dryness when they emerged, dripping wet, from the icy depths.

"Damn Dragonborn," Vilkas muttered.

"Eh, you needed a bath anyway, brother," Farkas joked, slapping his brother on the back which caused water to splash out from the fur beneath the steal of his armor. "How long had it been?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes and sloshily stomped his way up the path toward the tomb's entrance.

A doorway led to a narrow, stone stairway. At the bottom stood a massive statue of Ysgramor, or so Aerenwen assumed. His hands were lifted as if they should be swinging an axe, but his grip was empty. At first glance, there appeared to be no way out aside from the way they had come.

"Return Wuuthrad to Ysgramor," Vilkas instructed with a nod toward the statue. "It should open the way."

Aerenwen did as she was told, stepping up onto the alter beneath the statue to allow her the height needed to reach, and gently placed the weapon in his grip. A grinding sound echoed through the room as a hidden panel in the stone wall behind the statue slid open.

They began to make their way toward it, but Vilkas stopped them, placing his hand on Aerenwen's arm.

"I can go no further, sister," he stated sadly. "Kodlak was right. I let vengeance rule my heart. I regret nothing of what we did at Driftshade, but I can't go any further with my mind fogged and my heart grieved. I cannot face Kodlak."

Aerenwen nodded, and Farkas glanced at his brother sadly, watching as the other man took a seat near the base of the statue.

"So what should we expect in this place?" Aerenwen enquired as they made their way through a narrow passageway.

"The original Companions," Aela replied. "Their finest warriors rest with Ysgramor. We have to prove ourselves to them."

"Are they guarding the place? Like draugr?" she asked.

"Not exactly," the other woman answered. "I'm sure if our intentions weren't true, that would be the case, but we aren't intruding. I'd wager they've actually expected us. They just need to make sure that we're worthy."

"Be ready for an honorable battle," Farkas stated.

Sure enough, in a small burial chamber, two ghosts appeared. They battled, and the trio continued on down a large set of steps and into a larger chamber where three ghosts awaited them. After proving themselves worthy against those ancient Companions, they found themselves in a small narrow chamber with a pond in the center. Four more ghosts were taken out before they climbed a few steps out of the murky water and found themselves outside a heavily webbed doorway.

"I can't go any further," Farkas stated.

"What's wrong?" Aela asked.

"I've never been good with the big, crawly ones," he replied, "but ever since Dustman's Cairn," he cast a sheepish look in Aerenwen's direction, "they've been too much for me. Everyone has their weakness, and this one's mine. I'm not proud, but I'll stay back with Vilkas."

Aerenwen and Aela nodded their understanding.

"Give my regards to Ysgramor," he stated with a grin before wandering back the way they had come.

"I guess it's just the two of us then," Aerenwen said, pulling her sword, so she could hack away the spiderwebs blocking the doorway.

"Forever and always," Aela answered.

They exchanged a quick kiss before Aerenwen sliced at the sticky silk and cleared the way, revealing nearly a dozen of the giant spiders. It wasn't easy, and there were a few close calls, but they persevered and continued on through the tomb.

Three more rooms and ten more ghosts passed before the women arrived in what was obviously the main burial chamber. A ghost stood, warming his hands over a bluish tinted fire glowing from a brazier near the center of the room. They sheathed their weapons when they realized it was Kodlak.

"My fellow Harbingers and I have been warming ourselves here," he informed them with his usual paternal smile, "trying to evade Hircine."

They glanced around but saw no one but Kodlak.

"I don't see anyone else," Aela commented.

"That's because your heart knows only me as the Companions' leader," he replied. "I'd wager old Vignar could see half a dozen of my predecessors, and I see them all. The ones here, the ones in Sovngarde, the ones trapped in Hircine's realm. And they all see you. You've brought honor to the name of the Companions, both of you. And we won't soon forget it."

"I brought one of the witches' heads," Aerenwen stated, pulling it from her satchel. "Vilkas said we can still cure you."

"Did he now?" Kodlak asked. "I can only hope. Throw it into this fire," he nodded toward the odd, magical flame he stood beside. "It should release their magic, for me at least."

Aerenwen did as she was told, and soon Kodlak's ghost was squirming and crying out. A great wolf appeared beside him. Instead of the blue tint of a ghost, the wolf was tinted red, and it snarled viciously at the women. Aela began firing off arrows at it, and Aerenwen fought it head on with her sword.

The wolf lunged, avoiding her strikes, but eventually Aela's arrows weakened it enough that Aerenwen was able to cleave off its head. It immediately disappeared, and Kodlak let out a sigh of relief.

"The beast inside of me has been slain," he stated. "I thank you for this gift. The others remain trapped by Hircine, though. Perhaps from Sovngarde, the heroes of old can join me in their rescue." He looked wistful for a moment. "The Harrowing of the Hunting Grounds. It would be a battle of such triumph! Perhaps some day, you'll join us in that battle," he glanced at Aerenwen, "but for today, return to Jorrvaskr. Triumph in your victory and lead the Companions to further glory."

"You truly believe I am the best to fill your shoes?" Aerenwen asked.

"You came to us for a reason, child. I saw it," the old man replied. "I'm sure, by now, Tilma has shared my journal with you. You are a born leader, Aerenwen, with a strength of spirit and a heart of gold. I am confident the Companions will thrive with you as Harbinger. If anyone doubts, share my journal with them." The apparition began to fade, and as he disappeared, they heard him sigh. "Ah, Sovngarde."

Aerenwen glanced over at Aela and saw the Nord discreetly wiping tears from her eyes. She approached her and took her hand. In that moment, she decided after her business in Solitude, she would procure herself an Amulet of Mara. Life was too short to waste a moment, and she wanted the world to know this woman was hers. She wanted to be her wife.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Aela asked, a single brow raised in challenge.

"I love you," Aerenwen replied with a smile.

"And I love you," Aela answered. She leaned up and met the elf's lips in a kiss. She glanced around the room in awe. "Do we have time to linger a while?" she asked. "This is the Tomb of Ysgramor! I'd like to commune a bit. This place is worthy of some time."

Aerenwen smiled. "You commune all you want, my love," she chuckled. "I'm going to tell the others we've finished and look around a bit myself. I'd imagine there must be a word wall here somewhere."

The elf found the brothers back by the statue, which she accessed quite easily through a passageway that led to a second panel in the room, this one near Ysgramor's left side. She noticed a third panel opened opposite and decided to explore it but stopped to talk to the brothers first.

"It's done," she stated with a smile. "We cured Kodlak."

The brothers were thrilled and looked immensely relieved.

"Did he say anything?" Vilkas asked. "Did he express who he wished to be his successor?"

Aerenwen nodded. "Me," she replied with a shrug. "He said if you didn't believe it, to read his journal when you return to Jorrvaskr."

Vilkas looked shock while Farkas gazed at her with pride. Eventually, Vilkas nodded. "A month ago, I never would have guessed it, but I see what he saw in you. You will make a good leader."

Aerenwen smiled. "We have much to discuss," she stated. "I need to finish this Dragonborn business, figure out why the dragons are coming back and if it can be stopped. That will have me away from Jorrvaskr for extended periods from time to time."

"We shall discuss it," Vilkas replied. "When you return from Solitude, we will meet and then officially name you Harbinger."

The brothers wandered toward the main chamber to explore and visit Ysgramor's actual tomb, and Aerenwen followed the third passageway which led to a door leading outside, opening higher up on the island than the entrance. She followed a set of steps curving up and around the cliffside and found the word wall she had expected was there somewhere. A new word, Ra'an, was added to her repertoire.

* * *

Battling through the tomb had lasted until close to midnight, and after exploring and communing, as Aela called it, for a few hours, the group found themselves back in Winterhold at first light.

"I'm starving," Farkas announced, causing the others to laugh but also agree.

"Why don't you three head to the inn?" Vilkas suggested. "I'll secure us a carriage for the return home. If we leave by noon, we should be back in Whiterun before nightfall."

Farkas wasted no time heading toward the inn, and Vilkas wandered toward the entrance to town where a hired carriage sat. Aerenwen nudged Aela and nodded in the direction of the college. They made their way toward the arched entrance to the bridges where two sentries stood guard.

"Admission is restricted to students and staff only," one of them stated.

Aerenwen nodded. "I'm actually not looking to get in," she replied. "My sister, Mari, was headed here to study. I'm not sure that she has arrived yet, but if she has, would you tell her that Aerenwen will be at the inn until noon?"

The man nodded, and she and Aela made their way down the road.

* * *

The four Companions shared a table at The Frozen Hearth, shoveling large bowls of horker stew and mead, or in Aerenwen's case wine, into them. They were all chilled, especially Aerenwen, and hungry after their long night in the tomb.

"Hello, sister!" a familiar voice greeted, and they all looked up with a smile as Mari approached their table, each of them, even Vilkas, having gotten to know the perpetually cheerful elf while she visited in Whiterun. "What brings you to the frozen north?"

Aerenwen embraced her sister and made room for her on the bench she shared with Aela. "We just returned from visiting Ysgramor's Tomb which is on an island off the coast to the north of here. We're only here long enough to warm up and fill our bellies, but I didn't feel right not saying hello if you had already arrived. How is the college treating you?"

"Alright," Mari replied. "I'm beginning as a novice," she stated with a frown, "but I couldn't tell them of my previous studies. They have a Thalmor emissary there, and he's sketchy, more so than most, and if I had said I was an advanced student in Firsthold, he certainly would have looked into my past. He's already a bit suspicious of me, but he's that way with everyone, I think."

"Be careful," Aerenwen warned.

"Always," Mari replied. She stole a piece of her sister's bread. "Otherwise it's good, though. My fellow students are nice, and I have my own room with a comfortable bed. It beats the loft at the farm. The professors are quite knowledgeable, and I think I will be pleased with my studies there. It's all been quite basic so far, but we're heading off soon to visit some ruins nearby. Saarthal?"

"Ysgramor's city," Vilkas stated with a nod. "It was the first city the Nords founded when they arrived in Skyrim from Atmora. It was decimated by the elves in a battle known as the Night of Tears. It is said only Ysgramor and his sons survived. They fled to Atmora and returned with five hundred companions to seek their vengeance, settling in Windhelm."

"I'm really excited," Mari stated, after nodding along with everything Vilkas has said. "No one really knows why the elves attacked Saarthal. There's a rumor that the Nords unearthed a great power during their excavation, and the elves wanted it for themselves. I'm anxious to see what we will find. The college is overseeing the excavation, and it's been centuries since anyone has set foot in the underground caverns."

"How was Windhelm?" Aerenwen asked.

"Cold," Mari replied. "Even colder than here, if you can imagine. It's always so windy, and the people are rude. After they found out I was Elain's sister, most were friendly enough, but I certainly wouldn't want to be living there. Elain is up to something. She's more secretive than usual."

"She'll tell us what's going on when she's ready," Aerenwen replied.

Mari nodded. "What about you? Anything new happen with the dragon business?"

Aerenwen shook her head. "Aela and I will be off to Solitude tomorrow," she replied. "We have a lead there that I'm going to look into to see if we can get some more information as to why they're returning now."

Aela frowned when she realized Aerenwen wasn't going to tell Mari exactly what she was doing in Solitude. The elf discreetly shook her head, not wanting to worry her sister unnecessarily. Mari noticed.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.

Aela raised an eyebrow at her lover, and Aerenwen sighed, motioning with her hand for the other woman to tell her since she apparently wanted so badly to do so.

"She's infiltrating the Thalmor embassy," Aela stated with a frown. "This Delphine woman seems to think the Thalmor are behind the dragons. Your sister disagrees but finds it likely that they may have information."

"That's a definite possibility," Mari agreed. "I don't think they would have the means to resurrect dragons, but they certainly have eyes everywhere. They may have more of an idea of why it's happening. This isn't good, though, Ren. You can't just go waltzing into the embassy alone. Tell me you're going with her," she added, addressing Aela.

"Nope," Aela replied, popping the 'p'. "She won't let me."

Mari frowned at her sister, and the brothers looked on in curiosity. Vilkas had never seen Aerenwen go head to head in a battle of wills the way Farkas had, and this was the first either of them had heard about the dangerous mission their comrade was undertaking.

"I have an official invitation to a reception there," Aerenwen explained. "I can't get Aela in. Once I'm there, I have a contact inside, who is going to help me get away from the party. As an Altmer, I'll be able to blend in once I steal some armor. I'm hoping I can get in and out without anyone realizing I'm not supposed to be there."

"And if you can't?" Mari asked.

"Then I'll kill some damn Thalmor on my way out," Aerenwen stated.

"Delphine is going to wait at the stables for her, but she's skipping out at midnight," Aela explained, her tone dripping with displeasure. "She's a fugitive from them as well because she was once a Blade, and she's apparently not honorable enough to stand by the code of not leaving a man behind. I'm going to wait with her, but when she leaves, if Aerenwen isn't back, I'm going to go get her."

"Not alone you're not," Farkas stated. "I'm coming, too."

Aerenwen groaned. She knew they meant well, but her entourage on the trip to Solitude was slowly growing, and that certainly wasn't the way to stay under the Thalmor's radar.

"Will you please go see Elain first?' Mari asked.

Aerenwen started to argue, but the smaller elf held up a hand to silence her.

"She scoped out the embassy while she was in Solitude visiting Steffen," she explained. "Maybe she'll have some valuable information for you. I'm not happy about this, but I understand why you feel you need to do it. I would feel a lot better, though, knowing you were as prepared as possible."

Aerenwen nodded, relenting. "Think that carriage can swing by Windhelm briefly?" she asked Vilkas.

He nodded. "We should arrive by dinnertime. It's slightly out of the way, but I'll pay the driver extra if necessary," he stated. "It may put us back in Whiterun after dark, but it still shouldn't be too late."

"Any other crazy schemes I'm missing out on?" Mari asked.

Aerenwen shook her head. "Kodlak was killed by the Silver Hand," she informed her sadly. "Vilkas and I wiped them out in revenge."

"Who's the new Harbinger?"

"Your sister," Aela answered with a smirk.

Mari's eyes widened.

* * *

Windhelm was everything Mari and Elain had told her it would be. Aerenwen pulled her cloak tightly around herself against the biting wind as she and Aela made their way through the maze of streets. Mari had given her directions for finding Elain's home, and the brothers had stayed outside the city with the carriage.

Elain's home was large and ornate, surrounded by an iron fence in what was obviously the wealthier section of town. Aerenwen knocked on the door and was greeted by a large Nord who scowled at her.

"Is Elain at home?" she asked, knowing this must be the housecarl her sister wasn't fond of.

He nodded. "Who shall I tell her is here?"

"Her sister," she replied.

He looked surprised but nodded. As he walked away, leaving the two women in the entryway of the large house, they heard him muttering to himself something along the lines of "How damn many of them are there?"

"Aerenwen! Aela!" Elain gasped as she emerged from a room in the back of the house. "What a surprise! Come in! Can I get you anything to eat?"

"I'm afraid we can't stay, sister," Aerenwen replied after being greeted with a warm hug. "Mari asked that we come. We've just left Winterhold and are headed back to Whiterun, but we leave for Solitude in the morning, so we can't dawdle."

Elain nodded. "Is Mari all right?"

"Yes," Aerenwen replied. "She's getting settled in at the college and seems to like it there. We're actually here for me. The dragonborn business has led me to a mission that involves infiltrating the Thalmor embassy to see what they have for information and knowledge about the return of the dragons. I'm invited to a reception there on Loredas night and will be going alone. Mari said you scoped the place out and hoped you may have some helpful information."

"Like hell you're going alone," Elain stated with a frown. She hurried to a wardrobe in the corner and pulled out her cloak. Soon she was dressed for the weather and had her bow and a quiver of arrows slung on her back.

"I don't have an invitation for you," Aerenwen replied with a sigh.

"Now, sister," Elain smirked, "have I ever needed an invitation to get in anywhere?"

Aerenwen laughed and shook her head, but she had to admit, the idea of Elain accompanying her certainly made her feel a bit better about this dangerous endeavor.


	26. Solitude

Chapter Six: Solitude (Fridas/Loredas/Sundas, 24th/25th/26th of Frostfall)

Solitude was an absolutely gorgeous city. The architecture was stunning and Imperial in nature, and the people were friendly and relaxed. It reminded Aerenwen of Whiterun on a grander less Nord-inspired scale. The city itself was built upon an immense stone arch over a harbor, and she imagined the view from the top of the walls must be magnificent.

Elain led them toward the inn, The Winking Skeever, and they quickly secured rooms. It was just the three of them. Convincing Farkas to stay behind at Jorrvaskr had been a bit easier after Elain had insisted on accompanying Aerenwen, and they had reminded him that he and Vilkas needed to share the charge of looking after the other Companions in Aerenwen's absence.

They were trying to decide where to sit in the large dining room when their attention was drawn by someone calling their name. At a table in the corner sat Steffen and a young Nord woman with brown hair. They both greeted Elain with hugs before she took a seat, and then Steffen approached Aerenwen.

"Skyrim looks good on you, sister," he stated with a grin.

She smiled and hugged him. "You as well." She stepped back and gestured for Aela to step forward. "Steffen, this is Aela. She's my shield-sister in the Companions but is also very dear to me." She wished she had a title to introduce the other woman as, the word wife dancing on the tip of her tongue.

Steffen smiled, and like Mari had, surprised Aela by embracing her. "It's so good to meet you, Aela," he stated. "Elain told me a great deal about you and gushed about how good you are for our sister."

Elain snorted between bites of cheese. "I don't gush about anything, Steffen."

"It's good to meet you as well, Steffen," Aela replied. "Aerenwen has spoken of you often."

"You're looking at me like you're surprised by my appearance," he commented.

She chuckled. "I've always been amazed at just how much alike Elain and Aerenwen look aside from the color of their hair, but you are the spitting image of Nesta, hair color and all."

Steffen grinned. "Nesta is my twin," he explained. He gestured for the women to sit and told them to help themselves. They'd ordered a great deal of food anticipating their arrival. "Aerenwen, Aela, meet my dear friend, Illdi. It was her father you encountered in Morthal."

Illdi shyly shook their hands, but as conversation stretched on, updating one another on their lives, she loosened up, and Aerenwen could see just why her brother had taken a fondness to the kind-hearted woman.

They didn't discuss what had brought Aerenwen to Solitude, all three women knowing mentioning the Thalmor and the risk they were taking could awaken some less than pleasant memories for Steffen. But they visited, laughed, and ate together until close to midnight when they went their separate ways.

The three women gathered in the large room Aela and Aerenwen would be sharing to discuss their plan for the next day.

"There's a secret entrance to the embassy," Elain told them. "The main Thalmor military presence in Skyrim is at a place called Northwatch Keep. It's to the north, located on the coast, and it isn't accessible by any main roads. In watching the embassy, I began to wonder how they were transporting prisoners between the two buildings, so I staked the Keep out. There's a cave not far from there. I snuck in and followed it to a hatch. I don't know where the hatch leads, but, from what I observed, it's somewhere in the embassy. That will be our way out, and also your way in should the worst happen," she added for Aela's benefit. "You know as well as I do, Ren, that when we get in there, we're not getting back out through the front door."

"So I should wait by this cave?" Aela asked.

Elain nodded and marked the location on the other woman's map. "You'll want to stay hidden, but if we aren't out by midnight, that's where you'll want to go."

Aerenwen frowned, not liking the idea of Aela entering the embassy one bit but knowing she would do the same if the roles were reversed.

"There's a large walled courtyard," Elain continued. "I gather the reception will be in the main building. There's a smaller building out back that contains the ambassador's office, and, I assume, the prison. I'll sneak over the wall and access the main building that way. I'll meet you there."

Aerenwen nodded. "I'd say I could just bring you with me and claim I had decided to bring a guest, but the two of us together may tip them off as to our identities. It's too obvious that we're sisters."

Elain agreed. "When do you meet this contact?"

"I'm meeting Malborn here tomorrow at noon," she replied, "then Delphine at four at the stables. He's supposed to take any equipment I want brought in with me."

"That's good," her sister answered. "I'll need to remain light on my feet, so I can't be too burdened with supplies."

"Can I just say, for the hundredth time, I don't like this?" Aela commented with a sigh.

"We'll be fine," Elain replied. "We've gotten out of worse situations with the Thalmor before." She stood and finished off the goblet of wine she'd been drinking. "Good night, ladies!" she called as she left the room.

"You had all of your sisters with you before," Aela stated after she'd left. "It's just the two of you going up against an entire embassy of Thalmor."

Aerenwen sighed and lay down beside the other woman on the bed. "If I can have any of them with me, Elain is the best to have," she told her. "I'll get out of the party and find something to wear as a disguise. Elain and I will blend right in wearing sets of elven armor or Thalmor robes."

"Be careful," Aela ordered, laying a hand on Aerenwen's cheek and gazing into her eyes. "Don't take any unnecessary risks."

"I promise," Aerenwen replied. She placed a small kiss on the tip of the other woman's nose. "I will be coming back to you tomorrow, Aela. My end will not come at the hands of the Thalmor. After all they've put my family through, I will not allow them that satisfaction."

* * *

Malborn the Bosmer was a tiny elf with wild, sandy brown hair who was obviously fearful of their upcoming mission. He studied Aerenwen as she approached his table at the Winking Skeever. "You're who she chose?" he asked. "I hope the hell Delphine knows what she's doing."

Knowing he was referring to her race, Aerenwen decided to attempt to reassure him. "I assure you, I owe no allegiance to the Thalmor. As a Bosmer, I would think you should know better than to judge a person based upon their race."

Malborn looked rightly chagrined but not entirely convinced. "At least you can blend in well enough," he commented.

Their exchange was brief. Aerenwen handed over her sword as well as some potions and lockpicks she thought would be of use inside the embassy, and then they parted ways. She changed into the clothing Delphine had sent in her room while Elain and Aela visited outside in the sitting area at the top of the inn's stairs.

The clothing was nice and suitable for someone of means. Looking at herself in the mirror, Aerenwen felt as though she was looking at herself years in the past. Her warpaint had been washed off. She'd abandoned the usual thin braids that held her auburn hair out of her face in exchange for a neat bun. She wore green leggings and a green tunic beneath a quilted burgundy jacket with gold embroidery. A gold, braided rope tied the jacket closed around her waist. Knee-high leather boots, soft leather gloves, and a golden necklace completed her ensemble. She looked much more the part of Aerenwen, daughter of the Connareeve of Mathiisen, than Aerenwen the Companion. How her life had changed.

Elain let out a low whistle when her sister emerged from the room. "You look like you just lost an argument with our mother over whether or not armor was appropriate attire for a formal dinner with visiting dignitaries."

Aerenwen chuckled.

Aela's eyes took in the elf, looking so different than she had ever seen her. "You clean up nicely," she stated with a small smile.

"You mean you still would've found me attractive back in my days of being a spoiled, noblewoman's daughter?" Aerenwen teased.

The huntress rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around the taller woman's waist. "Always," she replied simply. They embraced and shared a kiss before the three women left the inn and found their way out of the city.

They parted ways not far from the gate, Elain wandering off into the forest to make her way, undetected, to the embassy, and the other two women arriving at the stables soon after where they found Delphine waiting anxiously with a carriage ready to take Aerenwen to the party. Delphine and Aela exchanged a brief glance and nods of recognition, and the older woman gave Aerenwen some privacy to say her goodbyes.

"I'll be waiting for you outside the hatch in the cave," Aela promised.

"Be safe," the elf ordered. "Don't let anyone see you."

"I'll be careful," she replied. "Get in, get what you need, and get out. Don't take any unnecessary risks tonight."

"I won't," Aerenwen promised.

They shared a kiss, and the elf watched as Aela rode off on her horse, her own horse's reigns tied to the saddle as it followed along beside her.

"You look the part," Delphine commented, taking in Aerenwen's transformation. "I'm not the only one who can do undercover well. Did you meet with Malborn?"

Aerenwen nodded.

"Good luck," Delphine stated. "If I'm not here when you return, I will see you back in Riverwood."

Soon, Aerenwen was riding alone in the back of the carriage up the mountain to the embassy. The building emerged into view from the trees - an ornate, stone structure, styled much the same as the buildings within the city of Solitude. Guards could be seen standing around the entrance, and Aerenwen swallowed her nerves as she climbed down out of the carriage and approached them.

"Invitation please," one commented.

She passed her invitation over and watched as the man studied it then nodded his permission for her to proceed inside.

Once walking through the doors, Aerenwen was immediately met with warmth and the sounds of festivities. Music and conversation filled the air. She had barely adjusted to the change in atmosphere when she was approached by a tall, blonde Altmer woman who looked to be about her mother's age.

"Welcome," she greeted with a reserved smile. "I don't believe we've met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are . . . ?"

Aerenwen's first instinct was to give an alias, giving her real name to a Thalmor official seemed foolish, but Delphine had already had her name added to the guest list, so using another at that point was probably futile. "My name is Aerenwen. It's a pleasure to meet you," she replied.

"Ah, yes," Elenwen replied with a nod, "I remember your name from the guest list. Please tell me more about yourself. What brings you to this . . . to Skyrim?"

Aerenwen wondered what insulting term Elenwen was originally going to use to describe her new home and scrambled to come up with a fake background. She hadn't really prepared for having to speak with the actual ambassador. Thankfully, Malborn stepped in, saving her from a lengthy conversation.

"Madame Ambassador, I'm sorry to interrupt," he began.

Elenwen sighed. "What is it, Malborn?"

"It's just that we've run out of the Alto wine," he replied. "Do I have your permission to uncork the Arenthia red?"

"Of course," Elenwen answered, obviously annoyed. "I've told you before not to bother me with such trifles." She turned back to Aerenwen. "If you'll excuse me, we'll have to continue this conversation later. Apparently the help need their hands held in order to perform their duties."

Aerenwen watched her walk away and made her way further into the party. Though there were many guests, mostly Nords, the only familiar face she saw was, surprisingly, Illdi's. Her brother's friend had apparently been hired as a bard for the evening, and she stood in a corner playing her flute. She noticed Aerenwen immediately, and the elf saw the recognition in her eyes. She discreetly shook her head, hoping to deter the woman from speaking to her, and Illdi seemed to understand.

Finished with Elenwen, Malborn now stood behind the bar, and Aerenwen approached him under the guise of ordering a drink.

"What can I get for you?" he asked, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Then he dropped his voice to a near-whisper. "You made it in. Good. As soon as you distract the guards, I'll open this door, and you can be on your way. Let's hope we both live through this day."

Aerenwen nodded and accepted the goblet he handed her.

"Here you are, ma'am," he commented in a louder voice, "the finest Colovian brandy."

The elf thanked him and made her way around the party. She pretended to mingle, hoping to blend in. Though she didn't partake in any conversations herself aside from exchanging a few pleasantries, she listened for any string of conversation that may give her an idea for causing the distraction she and Malborn needed. She found herself near Illdi and took out a few septims, stepping toward the bard under the guise of giving her a tip for her entertainment.

"What are you doing here?" Illdi asked quietly.

"I'm undercover," Aerenwen replied simply. "I didn't say anything in front of Steffen because of his history with the Thalmor. I was afraid it would upset him more than was necessary."

Illdi frowned, and Aerenwen wondered if her brother had told his new friend of his history yet. The young Nord nodded, though, and accepted the coins, thanking Aerenwen for her generosity just as she would have any stranger at the party.

Aerenwen spotted a man sitting on a bench not far from the door. He looked annoyed, and she approached him. She could smell the booze on his breath the moment she neared him. "You don't look like you're having a very good time," she commented.

"The damn bastards cut me off," he replied with a frown. "What's the point of coming to a shindig like this if you can't have all the free booze you want? I'd give anything for another glass of Colovian brandy."

Aerenwen glanced down at the goblet in her hand and smiled to herself. "Perhaps we can make an arrangement . . ."

Moments later, Aerenwen's goblet in hand, the drunk stumbled out to the center of the room and drew everyone's attention. She didn't really hear all he was saying as she slipped behind the bar and through the door with Malborn, but it sounded like he was making insinuations about the ambassador. She wondered if there was any truth to anything he was saying.

"So far so good," the Bosmer commented as he shut the door behind them. "We need to make our way through the kitchen. Just stay close and let me do the talking. Follow me."

Aerenwen did just that, finding herself in a large kitchen full of the aromas of cooked foods. A Khajiit stirred a pot over the fire and looked up as Malborn ushered Aerenwen into the larder.

"Who comes, Malborn?" she asked. "You know this one doesn't like strange smells in her kitchen."

"A guest feeling ill," he lied. "Leave the poor wretch be."

"A guest?" The woman sounded less than pleased with this. "In the kitchen? You know this is against the rules."

"Rules, Tsavani?" Malborn asked. "I didn't realize that eating Moon Sugar was permitted. Perhaps I should ask the ambassador . . ."

The woman interrupted him with a hiss. "Get out of here! Tsavani saw nothing."

Malborn closed the door behind him and gestured to a chest along the back wall. "Your things are in there," he told Aerenwen.

She quickly retrieved her things, looping the satchel with the potions and lockpicks over her shoulder and gripping her sword in her hand. She'd need to find some armor quickly.

Malborn opened another door and waved Aerenwen through it. "Don't screw this up," he whispered. "I need to lock this behind you or else the guards may realize something is up. You're on your own now, Altmer."

Aerenwen nodded.

The door was shut behind her, and she found herself standing in a long, ornately decorated hallway that ended in a stained glass window. She crept forward and peered through an open doorway into the next room. It appeared empty until she heard a voice.

"Took you long enough."

Aerenwen took a deep breath to slow her racing heart. "You'd think, after all these years, I would've grown accustomed to you sneaking up on me."

Elain sat behind a bar in the large room, sipping at a glass of wine. She had traded in her simple, leather armor from before for a set of golden-hued armor fashioned in the style of the Altmer.

"How'd you get in?" Aerenwen asked.

"A window on the second floor," she replied. "I climbed a tree outside the courtyard and made my way across the roof. There were two guards and a justiciary in here. The justiciary is tucked into a closet upstairs, and the two guards are across the hall in a storage room. I borrowed this armor off one of them."

Aerenwen nodded and made her way to the storage room to do the same. Soon she wore the same armor as her sister, and they donned the helmets as well. She felt stifled and confined in the armor and thought that her sister must feel the same. Though elven armor was lightweight and flexible, to the sisters, it represented a life they had left behind.

They made their way outside into the large, walled-in courtyard. There were several guards patrolling, but most didn't even give them a second glance. As they approached the other building, the guard at the door spoke to them.

"You two are new," he commented. "When did you arrive?"

"Just today," Aerenwen replied.

"First time in Skyrim?" he asked.

They nodded.

"Is it always so damn cold?" Elain wondered, faking a shiver.

The guard nodded. "I'd even take Valenwood over this tundra," he commented. "Head on inside."

They nodded to him and proceeded through the door. Voices carried out from a nearby office, and they quickly deduced it was one of the officials speaking with an informant from Riften. They heard the Blades referenced and something about the Ratway, and it sounded like there was a prisoner downstairs they were torturing for information on a former Blade he knew the location of.

"Do we take them out or sneak by?" Elain asked.

"I vote take them out," Aerenwen decided. "If we're heading where the prisoner is, it sounds like the official in there is going to be making his way in that direction soon enough."

Elain nodded. They hid around the corner until the Nord informant came out. Aerenwen grabbed him from behind, holding her hand over his mouth to muffle his cries, and quickly snapped his neck. They tucked him into a space beneath the stairs. They had just finished when the Thalmor official stepped out, adorned in the heavy robes they had grown to hate. He nodded at them and made his way down a hallway to the left but never reached his destination as one of Elain's arrows struck him through the base of his skull. They hid him beneath his own desk and rifled through his things, finding nothing of value.

The next room they came to was the office of Elenwen herself. They found a dossier on Ulfric Stormcloak, which they pocketed for later reading, as well as a notice sent out alerting the Thalmor of their own felony status. Elain skimmed it over quickly before tucking it in her pocket.

"Anything we should be concerned about?" Aerenwen asked.

Elain shook her head. "Not yet," she replied. "It was still sealed, so the ambassador hadn't read it yet. It listed our names, but it assumed we would be traveling together. It didn't sound like they know we're here, just that they knew it would be a possibility and that we hadn't been found in the Dominion or Cyrodiil."

"Hopefully they won't see us as important enough to send out another letter," Aerenwen commented.

Elain echoed her statements, and they made their way downstairs.

The dungeon was a large basement room. The sisters took out two guards positioned at the top and bottom of the stairwell without raising any alarm. They could hear voices as they entered the room and found a mage dressed in Thalmor robes torturing a prisoner in an open cell. He barked out questions at the man who seemed barely coherent enough to answer them.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked the sisters with frown. "You're supposed to stay at your post in the stairwell. This area is forbidden."

Elain met the eyes of her older sister who nodded discreetly. Soon, they had the man backed into a corner. Elain had fired off an arrow into each of his palms, preventing him from firing off the flames and sparks he had summoned. He cradled his bleeding hands against his chest and glared at the women.

"What do you know about the dragons?" Aerenwen asked.

Elain was rifling through documents on a nearby desk and pocketing anything that looked to be of importance.

The man refused to speak, so Aerenwen ran him through with her sword.

A pounding on the door, which Elain had barred behind them, alerted them to the fact that their rouse may be up.

"We know you're in there!" a man's voice called through the thick wood. "We have your little bartender friend, and you're trapped."

"Well, fuck," Elain muttered. "This is cute."

Aerenwen rolled her eyes. They'd been in stickier situations than this, and there was still the matter of the secret entrance they had yet to find. She approached the prisoner who looked fearful.

"I don't know anything else, I swear!" he cried out weakly.

"We're not here to hurt you," she replied softly as she knelt before him. "We aren't with the Thalmor, I promise. Do you know if there's a hatch here that the guards have used to transport prisoners?"

The man nodded and looked toward an area just outside his cell. Aerenwen followed his glance and stood, kicking the hay on the floor around with her foot, revealing a wooden hatch. It was locked, so she searched the dead official and found several keys on him.

"What's your name?" she asked as she knelt before the haggard man again. He was a Breton and looked like he had once been very strong, but, just like Steffen, he had been starved and beaten to the brink of death.

"Etienne," he replied. "Etienne Rarnis."

"We're going to get you out of here, Etienne," she replied as she began trying the various keys in the shackles that bound him to the wall. "I am Aerenwen. That is my sister, Elain. We infiltrated the embassy to find out if the Thalmor knew anything about the dragons returning. Why do they have you captive?"

She finally found the key, and Etienne sighed with relief when his wrists were freed. He rubbed them and shook his hands, attempting to get the blood flowing through them again. "They're looking for an old man named Esbern," he replied. "There's an old man that fits his description hiding away in the Ratway in Riften, but I don't know if it's him or not. He's never said his name, and he's suspicious of everyone. Rarely leaves his quarters. He paid me to bring him food and drink from the tavern, but he never even opened his door for me. We passed everything through an opening in his door, and I only ever caught a glimpse of him through that."

Aerenwen nodded. Next, she went to work opening the hatch. After she'd unlocked it, she stared down the dark hole and let out a whistle. A familiar face soon appeared, and the look of relief in Aela's silver-lined gray-green eyes was obvious. Aerenwen helped Etienne climb down the rickety ladder into the hole, and the huntress motioned for her to follow. Elain stood nearby, staring nervously at the door which was now showing signs of the flames the guards on the other side were no doubt using to try and get through.

"I can't yet," Aerenwen insisted. "They have Malborn."

Aela frowned. She had climbed the ladder and stood, half out of the hatch. She followed Elain's gaze to the commotion in the doorway.

"Show yourselves or the Bosmer dies!" a voice called out.

"Leave me!" Malborn's voice shouted, followed by an exclamation of pain after he had no doubt been struck.

"So what's the plan?" Aela asked as she climbed the rest of the way out of the hatch. "We wait here for the dozens of Thalmar on the other side of the door to come barging through?"

Aerenwen sighed. It wasn't a good plan, but it was all she had.

"They're over confident," Elain replied. "They always are. I doubt the ambassador has done anything to break up her party. She wouldn't want her guests to suspect there was a chance she didn't have everything under control. My guess, there's maybe a half dozen guards on the other side of that door, thinking there's just one of you and that's all they need."

Aerenwen nodded her agreement. She glanced around the room and was struck with an idea. She closed the hatch and covered it with hay again, pocketed the keys, and motioned to a ladder leading up to a storage loft. Soon, the three women were gathered there, hiding behind various crates. Aela and Elain had their bows at the ready, and Aerenwen crouched beside the ladder to take out any guards who may get passed their range and attempt to climb up.

The door broke and two guards emerged at the bottom of the stairs, immediately falling as Aela and Elain hit their marks. Two more guards, in their haste to get down the stairs, failed to learn from their comrades' mistakes and met the same fate. The final two were a bit smarter, emerging with the wood elf in front of them like a human shield, but they underestimated the skills of the archers and were soon shot as well, though the wounds they suffered weren't immediately fatal - though the one wounded in the side of his neck would, no doubt, bleed out fairly quickly.

The women waited a moment, and when they were secure in the fact that no others were coming, they descended the ladder. Aerenwen approached one of the guards who was attempting to get up, despite the arrow lodged deep in the opening between his greaves and boots, no doubt right in his knee. She pointed her sword at his neck, the tip piercing slightly and causing blood to trickle out.

"Traitor," he spat. "You are a blight on our race."

"You don't know me," Aerenwen replied with a single eyebrow raised. "I owe no allegiance to the Thalmor and their despicable ways, therefore, I am no traitor. Though if being a traitor means living an honorable life rather than blindly following evil leadership, I'll bare that title proudly."

He glared at Aerenwen.

"Did we get everything we needed?" she asked over her shoulder though her eyes never left the guard. Malborn had fled and was hiding behind Aela near the hatch, and Elain stood nearby.

"Yes," her sister replied.

"Very well," Aerenwen answered, and she quickly slit the man's throat. She did the same to the other dying man, not to end his suffering but rather to ensure he wasn't still alive to give descriptions of them should reinforcements arrive.

"Quickly," Aela stated, opening the hatch again.

She climbed down first, followed by Malborn and Elain. Aerenwen was the last out. She closed the hatch and placed the padlock from the other side on it to make sure they would not be followed.

The cave was dark, but Aela held a torch, and Elain summoned a guiding light in her palm. Etienne leaned on Aerenwen, and soon they found themselves outside in the starlit night, a beach and the sea stretched out before them.

"Thank you," Malborn stated, still obviously shaken up. "When they realized you were gone from the party, they immediately made the connection that it had to have been me that helped you. Most would have just left me behind."

Aerenwen placed a hand on his shoulder. "We don't leave friends behind," she replied with a soft smile. "I've had to leave someone behind with the Thalmor before, and I swore I would never do so again."

Elain said nothing, but Aela saw her blink away a few tears.

Malborn nodded.

"Where will you go now?" Aerenwen asked.

"Windhelm," he replied. "I'll be safe there while I wait for my fiancee," he explained. "She was a server here, but the Thalmor have no knowledge of our relationship, so she should be safe. She's been instructed to leave and travel to Windhelm as a rendezvous point if things ever went south. From there, I suppose, we'll travel to Morrowind."

Aerenwen nodded.

"I have a home in Windhelm," Elain offered. "You're welcome to travel with me, though I'll be stopping in Whiterun briefly."

"Thanks," Malborn replied, "but it's probably best we split up. They'll be looking for us."

Elain nodded, understanding.

"And you?" Aerenwen asked Etienne.

"I suppose I'll head back to Riften," he replied. "Though I'm not sure how far I'll get in this state."

"I can help with that." She used a healing spell to take care of his superficial injuries and handed over three vials of a healing potion. "When you get there, seek out my sister Nesta," she told him. "She's with the Guild, and she'll help you. Tell her Aerenwen sent you."

He nodded and expressed his gratitude. Soon, the two men had disappeared into the trees, and Aela retrieved their horses which she'd hidden nearby. Elain climbed up behind her sister, and they rode off into the night.

"There's something different about you," she commented after a time, quiet enough that Aela, who rode a few paces behind them, wouldn't hear.

"Oh?" Aerenwen asked innocently.

"Mm-hmm," Elain replied, just as innocently. "And did you realize, like Aela and Farkas, you have a ring of silver around the color in your eyes now?"

Aerenwen chose not to comment but simply nodded.

Elain, knowing much about these sorts of things, continued. "Did it happen under duress?"

Aerenwen sighed and shook her head. She had hoped to be able to keep her beastblood a secret from her siblings but should have known Elain, out of them all, would figure it out.

"Good," she replied, and she left it at that.

The older Altmer sighed in relief.

 **Author's Note: A few extra chapters because I'm home sick and had nothing else to do. That is the end of Frostfall from Aerenwen's point of view. Next up is Mari. I'll start updating her part of the story this weekend.**


	27. Pinewatch

Part IV: Sun's Dusk

Chapter One: Pinewatch (Loredas/Sundas, First/Second of Sun's Dusk)

It had been close to a week since the three women had returned from their mission in Solitude. Elain had left for her home in Windhelm, returning a few days later with her dog, Meeko, and insisting she was staying until they had heard from Delphine what their next step was to be. If there was a chance Aerenwen was going up against the Thalmor again, Elain wasn't going to let her do it alone.

As for Delphine, Aerenwen had met with her at the Sleeping Giant just a day after returning to Whiterun Hold. The other woman was more paranoid than ever and seemed torn between investigating as to whether or not this Esbern, who was apparently an old compatriot of hers, was truly hiding out in the Ratway or if this was a Thalmor trap to draw other Blades agents out of hiding.

Aerenwen tried to explain that nothing about this situation seemed like a trap to her, but she had grown to know the other woman enough to see that nothing would happen until she'd made up her mind. For now, Delphine needed to reconcile the fact that the Thalmor knew nothing about the dragons, unlike she had believed, and then she would deal with the prospect of another agent still living.

With Dragonborn business at a halt for the moment, Aerenwen was able to devote herself to her family and to Companion's business. She met with the other members of the Circle to discuss how her position as Harbinger could work while she was constantly on errands in reference to the dragons. The group agreed that Aerenwen's business with the dragons took precedent, and when she needed to be away from Whiterun, the remaining four members of the Circle would work together to fill her absence, even if that meant it was sometimes just the brothers since Aela refused to agree to stay behind every time Aerenwen left. In return, Aerenwen promised to devote one full day a week to Companion's business so that things wouldn't completely fall apart in the Harbinger's absence. She hoped her other responsibilities allowed her to keep that promise.

It was well after midnight when a knock on the door awoke all who were asleep in Aerenwen's small home. She and Aela immediately dressed themselves and had made it to the top of the stairs when they heard Lydia greet whomever was calling. Elain emerged from Hamish's room as well, bow in hand and Meeko and Kit behind her.

"May I help you?" they heard Lydia say, her voice drifting up through the floorboards.

"Yes, I'm sorry to call so late," a familiar voice replied, "but I'm looking for Aerenwen."

The three women at the top of the stairs immediately exchanged grins before rushing down the stairs, weapons forgotten. The pets, seemingly realizing there was no threat they were needed to defend against, retreated back into the small bedroom and resumed their positions curled against Hamish's side.

"Nesta!" Aerenwen exclaimed, pulling her sister into a hug.

The younger elf chuckled, and Lydia recovered from her surprise quickly to shut and bolt the door behind them.

"Lydia, this is my sister, Nesta," Aerenwen introduced. "Nesta, my housecarl, Lydia."

The housecarl gave a slight nod in greeting before retiring to her bedroom to give the women some privacy.

"What are you doing here?" Aerenwen asked as Nesta greeted Aela and Elain with their own hugs.

"I need your help," the blonde Altmer sister replied. "Yours will be an added bonus, though I hadn't expected to see you here," she added toward Elain with a wink. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Elain chuckled. "This Dragonborn business has our dear sister getting a little too close to the Thalmor for my comfort," she answered as she sat down in one of the chairs near the door, kicking her feet up to rest on the tabletop.

Nesta turned toward Aerenwen with wide eyes, obviously looking for an explanation.

"I have a colleague who is helping me look into the cause of the dragons' return," she explained. "She's a former Blades agent in hiding from the Thalmor. We wished to know if they knew anything more than we did about the dragons, so Elain and I infiltrated their embassy outside Solitude last week."

"Did you find anything?" Nesta asked. She plopped down in one of the seats beside the fire and dropped her bow and quiver onto the floor beside her.

"Not much," Aerenwen answered. "There's possibly another former Blade hiding in the Ratway. A man named Esbern?"

Nesta tilted her head in thought for a moment. "I've heard tell of some old man who has himself holed up in one of the rooms in the Ratway Warrens. He never comes out, and he pays people to bring him food and drink from the tavern. Could be him."

Aerenwen nodded. It sounded promising and correlated with what the Nord prisoner, Etienne, had told them. "Elain is here in case the Thalmor show up looking for me," she explained further. "Delphine lacked the foresight to use a fake name when she added me to the guest list."

"We were discovered," Elain added. "We got out, obviously, and were able to take a few of those Thalmor assholes out in the process, but they know Ren's name. With her title and standing as the Dragonborn, it won't be hard for them to find her if they look."

Nesta nodded with a frown. "Do they know about us?"

Aerenwen shook her head. "I don't think so."

"I found a letter to the ambassador with the details of our story and descriptions of us," Elain explained, "but it was still sealed, and I took it. Hopefully, they won't see us as worthy of sending another letter."

Again, Nesta nodded. "I'll help you guys find the old man in the Ratway, see if he's this Esbern you're looking for," she said, "but first, I need your help."

"What's going on?" Aerenwen asked. She sat in the chair beside Nesta, and Aela joined Elain at the small table in the corner. She knew it would take a lot for her sister to seek her aid and hoped she wasn't in too much trouble.

"Well, you all know the Guild is taking back our reputation in Skyrim one city at a time," Nesta explained. "I finished my business in Windhelm, and Markarth was next on the list. I've spent the last month staying with Glenys and performing jobs with some colleagues. It went well, and we drew the attention of a silver smith there who could gain us quite a lot of influence and would be a fence for us in the city. Completing the job he gave me would conclude my business there.

"He had some specialty silver mold shipped up from the Imperial City, but the shipment was intercepted by some bandits outside Falkreath," she continued. "The job he gave me was to steal it back, so I've been in Falkreath trying to determine what group of bandits were responsible for the theft. That hold is a mess," she added with a shake of her head.

"Anyway, in my search, a man approached me." She glanced at Aela. "Your father."

The Huntress' eyes widened, and she inched foreward on her seat a bit. Aela and her father may have been estranged, but Aerenwen knew if the man was in trouble, Aela would do anything to help him.

"Some time ago, a group of bandits broke into his home," Nesta told them. "Apparently there's some old ruin near it, mostly underground. The entrance is no longer accessible from the surface, but they were able to gain entry to it by knocking a hole in his basement wall. They've made their camp there and come and go from his house under the threat of death if he tells anyone about it. He approached me after realizing I was your sister, Ren, and could be trusted. I'm pretty sure they're the bandits I'm looking for, and I figured you'd want to know that your father is in trouble, Aela."

Aela nodded and exchanged a meaningful glance with Aerenwen.

"Where's his house?" Elain asked.

"Just outside Falkreath," Nesta replied. "The locals call it Pinewatch."

Aerenwen stood. "Let's try to get some rest," she stated. "We head out for Pinewatch at first light."

* * *

The group of women rode passed Pinewatch and left their horses in Falkreath. Leaving them outside the cabin was too much of a risk, and they could approach more stealthily on foot. They shared a late breakfast at the inn where they garnered a lot of attention, both because two of them were Companions and because it was well known now that they were Mari's sisters. Her friends had questions, and knowing she'd reached her destination safely, they simply replied that she had just sent word that she'd reached the Imperial City safely in order to set their minds at ease.

They approached Pinewatch cautiously, and Nesta took care of a bandit who stood guard outside of the cabin with an arrow before he even realized they were there. They entered the house with weapons drawn, startling Niall who sat at a table in the main room of the cabin. He relaxed when he realized who it was, and his eyes widened when he recognized his daughter among them.

"Are you well?" Aela asked, studying the man she hadn't seen in so many years with a concerned glance.

Niall simply nodded and held his finger to his lips. "One of them, Rhorlak, is asleep in the bed downstairs," he explained in a whisper.

They nodded, and Elain took a few silent steps down the wooden stairwell, aiming an arrow at the sleeping bandit who would never again wake up.

Once he had been taken care of, the group entered the basement where Niall showed them the entrance to the ruins. It was hidden behind a mechanized bookshelf which swung open after pressing a button located nearby.

"Go to the inn in Falkreath," Aela ordered her father. "You shouldn't be here while this is happening."

Niall simply nodded and cast his daughter a small smile. He then glanced at Nesta. "Thank you," he said quietly. "When I asked for your help, I didn't expect to see my daughter again."

"No matter what happened between you, you're her father," Nesta replied with a shrug. "I knew she would want to help if your safety was on the line, and I can't take on a whole underground den of bandits on my own."

Niall sent thankful smiles to each of the women, and when his eyes were on his daughter again, he whispered, "Be safe."

Aela simply nodded.

Niall disappeared up the stairs, and Elain pressed the button, the four women standing back as they watched the bookshelf swing outward, revealing a rough hole in the wall and a tunnel extending beyond it.

"You alright?" Aerenwen asked, nudging Aela slightly with her elbow.

The Huntress nodded and smiled slightly with a nod. Aerenwen had no doubt that seeing her father after all this time would cause some long-buried feelings to arise.

"Let's go," Aela stated. "I want these bastards out of my childhood home."

The Altmer sisters all nodded and followed their Nord companion through the tunnel.

Their travel through the underground ruins was easy at first. It wasn't well lit, and with their combined experience with stealth, along with Nesta and Elain's skill with archery, they were able to remain undetected, simply taking the bandits they encountered out from the shadows.

It wasn't until they had reached a living area within the ruin that they actually had to engage in any fighting. An area with several beds led into an area set up as a dining hall of sorts with several tables and a long bar. Several bandits were located there, and Aela and Aerenwen clashed swords with them. When they had all fallen, and the women were trying to figure out where to go next, a female emerged from behind a wooden partition. She looked confused and still half asleep, but when she took in the dead bandits and the group of strangers in the room, she let out a battle cry and dove at the nearest intruder who happened to be Aerenwen.

Despite the fact that this bandit put up a good fight and possessed an enchanted sword, with four against one, she didn't last long. The sisters split up to search the dead, and Aerenwen found a key and a journal on the last bandit.

"This was their leader," she explained to the others. "Rigel Strong-Arm."

"Niall said she was a he," Nesta commented, looking over her shoulder at the dead woman. "I can see why he was confused," she added with a cringe. "She's an ugly one."

Aerenwen rolled her eyes, and the group continued through a narrow tunnel leading off the room. They avoided a few traps and encountered one last bandit standing guard beside Rigel's treasure room. Inside was an enormous amount of loot, including the silver mold they were looking for.

Aerenwen raised an eyebrow at Nesta whose eyes had grown at the sight of all the treasure hidden there. "You realize this all belongs to someone, right?"

"Finder's keepers?" Nesta offered with a grin.

Aerenwen scoffed. Elain smirked, and Aela just chuckled.

After retrieving the silver mold, the group found a second entrance to the room - a barred door that led them to the first underground chamber they had encountered after leaving Niall's basement.

"I know you two pocketed some of that for yourselves," Aerenwen commented to her sisters after they had made their way back into Pinewatch. She was glaring at them, but there was no malice behind it - more the disapproving look of a mother who was trying not to be amused by her child's antics, "but I'll be telling the Jarl about this place, so they can retrieve the stolen goods and return them to their rightful owners."

Elain and Nesta simply smiled at their sister innocently.

The group found Niall back at the inn, and though he tried to speak with Aela, she had simply shook her head.

"I'm glad you're safe, and I'll do everything I can to ensure that," she stated, "but I'm not ready to forgive and forget quite yet."

Niall nodded sadly.

The sisters and Aela shared a dinner and made their plans for their next steps.

"I need to return this to Markarth," Nesta informed them. "I can be back in Whiterun in a few days, and, if you're willing, you can accompany me back to Riften, and we'll see if this fellow in the Ratway is the one you and the Thalmor are looking for."

Aerenwen nodded. "It's obvious that Delphine isn't about to make up her mind anytime soon, so I'm up for that. We may as well look into any leads we get."

"I'll go with," Elain offered. "I have a bit of business to attend to while I'm in this area," her sisters looked curiously at her, but she offerred no explanation, "but then I'll meet you all back in Whiterun. Three days?"

Aerenwen and Nesta both nodded in agreement to the time frame.

After parting ways, Aerenwen and Aela approached the Jarl's longhouse where the young man in charge of Falkreath Hold sat atop his thrown in fine clothes looking haughty and drunk on power. Though Aerenwen wasn't certain this man, after all she had heard of him, would do the right thing with the stolen goods, she hoped that telling him of their location in the presence of all the witnesses currently in the longhouse would help ensure that he did.

"Hail, Companions," Jarl Siddgeir stated with a slight nod of respect. "What brings you to my fair city?"

Aela scoffed under breath at the description of the dreary little town, and Aerenwen fought a smirk.

"We wished to tell you that we have just wiped out a group of bandits who were camped nearby," Aerenwen explained. "Though I know your hold is plagued by bandits as of late, from what I am told, this was the group most responsible for the interception of trade shipments from the Imperial province. The entrance to their lair was located within Pinewatch, the home of Niall, just outside of town."

"Was Niall involved in this illegal operation?" Siddgeir asked.

Aerenwen shook her head. "The bandits gained entry into his home illegally and threatened his life if he told of their presence. He risked his life to inform us of their location and has had no involvement in their thievery. Niall is a hero, as it is because of him that we Companions were made aware of this group and able to take them out successfully, thus bringing a bit more safety to the people traveling the roads of your hold."

Aela sent a thankful glance in Aerenwen's direction, and Siddgeir nodded. A woman standing nearby, an Altmer, leaned down and whispered something to the Jarl.

"You are Aerenwen, yes?" he asked. "The Dragonborn and a member of the great Circle of the Companions?"

Aerenwen nodded, but Aela felt the need to correct him.

"She is our Harbinger, Jarl," she stated with a proud smile.

Siddgeir raised an eyebrow. "I was sad to hear of the passing of Kodlak Whitemane but am pleased at the choice of his replacement." He stood and clasped his hands behind his back. "You have done us a great service, and the people of my hold are in your debt, both because of you taking out this notorious group of bandits and also because of your slaying of the dragons who now plague us. If you are willing, I hereby name you Thane of Falkreath Hold and grant you a parcel of land outside our city upon which you may build a residence if you would like."

Aerenwen recovered from her surprise quickly and bowed in respect. "I would be honored by such a gift, sir."

Siddgeir smiled, pleased. "Very well. It is done. You may meet with my steward to receive the deed to your property."

Aerenwen nodded.

The parcel of land that she had been gifted was actually located behind Pinewatch, down a narrow road. It consisted of a large clearing located on a hillside overlooking a set of standing stones and the nearby lake. The view was magnificent and included the mountains on the other side of the lake, the silhouette of Bleak Falls' Barrow standing atop them.

"Do you think you will build here?" Aela asked as she approached Aerenwen from behind in the fading light. She wrapped her arms around the taller woman's waist and rested her chin on Aerenwen's shoulder.

"Would you like to?"

Aela glanced at her curiously, and Aerenwen turned toward her, wrapping her own arms around the other woman as well.

"I know we have not discussed our future much, Aela, but you must know that when I picture mine, you are beside me as my wife," Aerenwen stated, her golden, silver-ringed eyes gazing deeply into Aela's.

Aela blinked and smiled, leaning forward to capture her elf's lips in a kiss. "I see the same."

"So would you like to build a home here with me?" Aela asked. "It doesn't offer the protection of the city walls that we have in Whiterun nor the convenience of proximity to Jorrvaskr, but perhaps, it would be a good place to visit when we need to get away from everything for a time."

"It would," Aela agreed. "And we could build it large enough to accommodate your siblings when they visit."

"It would be nice to have a place where we could all stay comfortably at the same time when our schedules allowed it," Aerenwen said with a nod.

"Then yes," Aela answered. "I would very much like to build a home here with you. It's perfect, I think. My childhood home is just a stone's throw away. I played in this clearing as a child and looked up at those ruins," she nodded toward Bleak Falls' Barrow, now barely visible in the twilight, "the same ruins where we grew to know each other. Our first adventure together."

Aerenwen smiled and couldn't resist pulling her Huntress closer for another kiss as the stars appeared in the vast sky above them.


	28. Fellglow Keep

Chapter Two: Fellglow Keep (Morndas/Tirdas, Third/Fourth of Sun's Dusk)

It was late morning, and Aerenwen was sitting at the desk in the Harbinger's office, rifling through records of jobs and payments, both upcoming and past. Kodlak had been an immaculate bookkeeper, but his handwriting was often difficult to decipher. Tilma had been a bit of help in that regard.

Aerenwen had allowed the widow to retain the bedroom she had shared with Kodlak, though, by right, it belonged to the Harbinger. Aerenwen had no use for the bed, however. She spent most of her nights in her home, and when exhaustion or necessity led her to need to sleep at Jorrvaskr, she could share Aela's quarters.

"Well, would you look at that?" a familiar voice teased. Aerenwen glanced up to see Mari standing in the open doorway, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. "The Harbinger of the Companions putting down her sword in favor of notebooks."

Aerenwen chuckled dryly. "Not by choice, I assure you," she replied as she stood to greet her sister. "I'm afraid this Harbinger business is a lot more public relations and bookkeeping than actual fighting."

"Thank goodness you're the Dragonborn then," Mari continued to tease with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'd hate to think of you growing bored."

Aerenwen chuckled and motioned for the white-haired elf to join her at the small table in the corner. "What brings you to Whiterun?" she asked.

"College business," Mari replied. "Business I was hoping I could get some assistance with."

"What's going on?" Aerenwen asked. She poured them each a glass of wine and gestured for Mari to help herself to the cheese and fruit Tilma had placed on the table a short time ago.

"You remember how I told you we were exploring Saarthal?" Mari asked.

Aerenwen nodded.

"We discovered something there," Mari continued. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before, Ren, and I can tell it's extremely powerful, even though we have no idea what exactly it is. They've taken to calling it the Eye of Magnus at the College. I suspect it may be what caused the elves to attack the Nords on the Night of Tears. I think the Nords found it, either in their excavations for the city or somewhere else, and the snow elves learned that they had."

Aerenwen nodded. "Sounds plausible. Perhaps they wanted the power for themselves."

"Either that or they had hidden it there and didn't think anyone should have it," Mari answered.

"You don't think its discovery is a good thing, then?"

Mari shook her head. "Just before I found it, a Psijiic monk appeared to me in a vision like the ones our mother used to use," she told her. "He said a lot . . . basically that this discovery wasn't good, and we had no idea what we were unleashing on the world. He said that my actions that had led me to the discovery would not be judged because I hadn't known what I would bring about, but from here on out, how I handled things would be watched closely. He implied that they felt I could prevent a great catastrophe."

Aerenwen sighed. "Why is it that the fate of the world seems to always rest on our family's shoulders since we arrived in Skyrim?"

Mari giggled, despite the seriousness of the statement. "You know that Nesta would say it's because we're just so amazing."

The truth in the statement caused Aerenwen to chuckle. "So what do you need my help with?" she asked.

"Well, the Archmage has had me researching what exactly this Eye may be while he and the professors observe the actual artifact," Mari explained. "I haven't found a damn thing and apparently that's because the books that would be helpful were stolen from our library several years ago."

"By whom?"

"Apparently there was a group of mages who left the College after being told they couldn't practice necromancy," Mari replied. "Another mage left afterwards to join them and stole the books, I guess, as a way to buy his way into the group."

"And now you're tasked with getting the books back, I assume," Aerenwen stated.

Mari nodded. "Last anyone knew, this group of mages were holed up in Fellglow Keep. I'm told it's near here."

Aerenwen stood and approached her desk again, studying the map that was laid out on top of it. She quickly found a location marked as Fellglow Keep to the east of the city, north of the river, and just at the edge of the mountains. She placed her index finger beside it, pointing it out to Mari who stood beside her.

"Will you help me?" Mari asked.

"Of course I will," Aerenwen replied. "We can leave at first light tomorrow. I gave Lydia the night off since I had planned to be at home, and Aela is out of town with Vilkas on a job until tomorrow."

"Thank you," Mari stated, wrapping her arm around her older, and taller, sister. "What's for dinner?"

* * *

Elain had returned to Whiterun in the wee hours of the morning, and as soon as she had discovered what Aerenwen and Mari were up to, she insisted upon joining them.

The trio left Whiterun after breakfast, leaving Hamish in the capable care of Lydia who had returned from her night off with only a slight hangover.

Fellglow Keep was mostly in ruin, several toppled towers littering the hillside. It wasn't long after their arrival that their presence had been detected by a flame atronach who immediately attacked, along with two mages who stood guard outside.

Mari was able to defeat the atronach while Elain took care of one of the mages with a long-distance arrow, and Aerenwen dodged fire spells from the other before finally landing her sword in his gut.

After some searching, the three sisters found the entrance to the dungeons of the keep down a set of stairs burrowed into the ground. The dungeons themselves were slightly flooded with rancid-smelling water. After navigating the subterranean tunnels, they entered a room where a mage stood amongst a group of smaller-sized frostbite spiders.

"Ah! Test subjects!" the mage exclaimed gleefully. "Attack, my pets!"

It took some time, and a few close calls, but the sisters were successful in defeating the spiders and the mage. They navigated the tunnels deeper into the structure until they found themselves in a room containing cells that housed emaciated vampires with two mages patrolling.

"You two handle the mages," Elain stated in a whisper. "I'll deal with the vampires."

The other two nodded and made quick work of the two novice mages. Elain then approached the locked cells, gaining the attention of the hungry vampires.

"You're hungry," Elain stated. "You've been held here against your will. We are not with them. We will let you free if you promise to sate your hunger on those who have imprisoned you and spare the three of us."

The vampires exchanged glances between them before nodding at Elain who pulled four levers located in the center of the room. The cell doors opened, and the four vampires rushed into the adjoining area. Screams and the sounds of fighting ensued, and by the time the sisters had entered the next space, three mages lay dead amongst tables and torture equipment containing the corpses of vampires. Those they had freed continued deeper into the dungeons.

"They were experimenting on them," Aerenwen stated with a shudder, reminded of the things she had seen the Silver Hand do to werewolves. She may not agree with some of their actions, but she didn't believe that all vampires were inherently evil. She refused to hold against them something that was beyond their control, especially considering that now she wasn't much different than they were.

As they followed the next tunnel, finding two more mages laid waste by the vampires they had freed, the sound of howling could be heard.

Aerenwen shuddered as her own wolf seemed to want to answer the call. She was only slightly relieved when she saw that the next test subjects were actual wolves and not werewolves. Elain released the three beasts, and Aerenwen sighed and smiled to herself when she realized that they seemed to understand that the sisters were not their enemy and ignored them in favor of taking off in the direction the vampires had assumedly gone, deeper into the keep.

A fourth prison cell housed a mage, a fellow Altmer, and he knelt down as he clutched the bars on the door. "Please! Please release me!" he cried out. "Help me! They're going to do something awful to me!"

"Who are you?" Mari asked, approaching his cell.

"I am Orthorn," he replied. "There's a lever there," he pointed toward the edge of his cell. "Please let me out before they come back!"

"You're Orthorn?" Mari confirmed.

Aerenwen could tell her sister recognized the name.

"Yes! Yes, did Arch-Mage Aren send you?" the imprisoned mage asked.

"He sent me, but not for you," Mari replied. "I'm here for the books you stole."

Orthorn's eyes widened. "Oh . . . oh, I see," he said, sounding completely defeated. "I shouldn't have taken them, I know. It was stupid. I was stupid, and it won't happen again. Let me out of here, and I'll help you find them."

Mari glanced at Aerenwen who shrugged. "This is your mission," she told her sister. "I'm just your sword."

Mari smirked and shook her head but apparently decided to let Orthorn out as the others watched her pull the level. The mage rushed out and caught Mari off-guard with a grateful hug.

"Where are the books?" Mari asked as she shrugged the relieved mage off her.

"I don't have them anymore," Orthorn replied sheepishly. "She took them . . . The Caller. She's the one who put me in this cell. I promise I will help you get them back, and then I will go back to the College and beg them to take me back. I'll make amends."

Mari rolled her eyes. "That's between you and the Arch-Mage," she replied. "I'm just here for the books."

Orthorn nodded. "I'll help you get them," he stated again. "The Caller will have them. She was most interested in one of the novels, though not interested enough to keep me from being locked up."

"Fine," Mari stated, narrowing her eyes at the mage. "You can show us where they are. Just don't get in the way."

Orthorn nodded eagerly. "I shall do my best. I owe the College for my transgressions."

The group of now four Altmer made their way deeper into the structure. Most of the mages they encountered had already been dealt with by the vampires and wolves, but a few had managed to evade them. Aerenwen and Elain were quick to dispatch of them, and Mari even took a few out with her flame spells.

Eventually, they came to a door atop a spiraling set of stone steps.

"This is the Ritual Chamber," Orthorn whispered. "The Caller will be in there."

"Who is this Caller?" Aerenwen asked.

"Their leader," Orthorn answered.

They entered the room on alert, and a robed Altmer mage stood the center amongst several lit candles.

"So you're the ones who barged into my home and laid waste to my projects," the woman stated when they stood before her. "How nice to meet you." Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

"Who are you?" Mari asked.

"Names no longer matter," the woman replied. "You may refer to me as The Caller. Now, do you have a reason for making such a mess?"

"I was sent by the College to retrieve the stolen books you have in your possession," Mari answered.

"So you're just one of Aren's lackeys?" The Caller asked with disgust. "How disappointing. You show real promise. You come here, kill my assistants, disrupt my work . . . You've annoyed me. I don't think I'll be giving you anything."

"Let me leave with the books, and there won't be anymore trouble," Mari offered.

The Caller sighed and studied the three women for a moment. "Fine. Take them and be gone. I have little use for them anymore anyway," she gestured toward several pedestals around the room housing books. "Never return here or else you'll face my full wrath."

Mari nodded and slowly made her way around the room, retrieving the books. While The Caller's attention was drawn by Mari's movement around the room, Elain quietly strung an arrow and then fired it, catching the mage in the throat. She fell in the center of the room in a pool of blood, and her sisters glanced at the dark-haired archer in surprise.

"Oh please," she muttered with an eye roll. "It's fine and well that you were able to get your books, but were we really going to leave her alive? I don't know what in Aedra's name she's up to, but it isn't good, that much is clear."

Aerenwen chuckled and shook her head, and Mari nodded her agreement. Orthorn seemed shocked and continuously glanced at Elain out of fear as they made their way back above ground.

Back in the fresh air, Orthorn bid his saviors goodbye. "Well, everything worked out nicely, didn't it?" At Mari's look of hesitant agreement, he continued. "You'll be going back to the College then?" She nodded. "I, uhh . . . I think, perhaps, I'll wait a bit before venturing there myself. Let his whole thing blow over, you know. Give certain parties a chance to forget what I may have done. Still, you've gotten me out of that cage, and I won't forget it. Thank you again and good luck to you." With that, the Altmer man took off running down the hillside.

"Will the College let him back in?" Aerenwen asked.

"It's doubtful," Mari replied with a shrug.

"So what are these books we risked our lives for?" Elain wanted to know.

Mari pulled each of the books out of her satchel and read their titles as she did so. "Night of Tears, The Last King of the Ayleids, and Fragment: On Artaeum."

"Night of Tears sounds promising, considering what you're dealing with and the history of Saarthal," Aerenwen commented as they made their way down the hillside in the direction of Whiterun.

"I can only hope," Mari replied. "I have a very bad feeling about all this."


	29. The Ratway

Chapter Three: The Ratway (Turdas/Fridas/Loredas; Sixth/Seventh/Eighth of Sun's Dusk)

Aela, Elain, and Nesta waited within the main room of the Sleeping Giant while Aerenwen met with Delphine in the basement.

"I'm still surprised you didn't have me rushing to Riften right away to see if this man is really who the Thalmor believe him to be," Aerenwen commented as she watched Delphine pace around her war room.

"It wouldn't have been the first time that the Thalmor had used a supposed Blade in hiding as a way to lure others out," the older woman answered with a sigh, "but you're right. We can't chance letting the Thalmor get to Esbern if it really is him. We need to find him first."

"Who is this Esbern?" Aerenwen asked. "Is he actually important to the business of dragons, or am I now just helping you find your friend and making sure the Thalmor don't gain another prisoner?"

"He is important," Delphine replied. "He was our archivist, our historian," she further explained. "If anyone knows of why it is the dragons are returning, it would be Esbern. I can only hope that the Thalmor were right and it is him, and that my paranoia hasn't delayed us to the point where we're too late."

Aerenwen nodded. "If he is as paranoid as you . . ."

Delphine interrupted with a snorted laugh. "Even more so."

"Alright. Then if he is even more paranoid than you, how can I get him to trust me? He doesn't know me, and I'm an Altmer. He'll probably think I'm with the Thalmor," Aerenwen stated.

"Just ask him where he was on the 30th of Frostfall," Delphine offered. "He'll know what it means."

* * *

It was just a few hours before dawn when the three sisters and Aela arrived in Riften. Aerenwen glanced around the darkened city in curiosity as Nesta led them through the abandoned streets. The buildings were different than any others she had encountered in Skyrim in their style, and the streets bridged over canals built within the city's infrastructure. Riften, though a basis of commerce in Skyrim, had a bad reputation thanks to the Thieves' Guild and corrupt leadership, but Nesta seemed quite at home there as she led them down a set of stairs along the canal.

Through a gate and a wooden door and down a torch-lit hallway, they followed Nesta through sewers and across a bridge until they reached a second wooden door. A sign above the door read 'The Ragged Flagon'.

"This is an underground tavern," Nesta explained. "It's open to the public, but it attracts unsavory types, aside from the Guild, of course," she added with a wink.

They followed her inside. The tavern seemed to be located on the opposite side of a large pool of stagnant water and was reached by a wooden ramp crossing it. A stone walkway surrounded the pool and two merchants, a blacksmith and an alchemist, were set up in small caverns along it.

"They weren't here when I first arrived," Nesta informed them as they walked toward the bar. "Once upon a time, this place was a city beneath a city, or so I'm told. Then our bad luck led to most of the merchants leaving. It's only been with our success in Windhelm that the blacksmith set up shop here. The alchemist must be a result from my business in Markarth."

They climbed the ramp and Nesta nodded at the rough-looking Nord who stood guard. He appraised the others accompanying Nesta with narrowed eyes but smirked at her in greeting.

"Well, well, well, would you look at what the skeever dragged in?" a middle-aged Breton commented as the group approached the bar. "Welcome back, Nesta."

She grinned at the man. "Delvin. Good to see you." She then turned toward a large man with reddish hair who sat upon one of the stools. "Heya, handsome."

He chuckled and smiled at Nesta. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he commented. He then nodded at Elain and greeted her by name. "Who are your friends?"

"This is my sister Aerenwen, and this is Aela," Nesta introduced. "Ladies, this is Brynjolf."

Aerenwen studied the man, recognizing his name from Nesta's Guild talk, but she gathered by the glances he was exchanging with her sister that there was more going on between them than simple business.

"Good to meet you ladies," he commented with a friendly smile. "This may be a first, having Companions present in our humble Flagon. What brings you to the Ratway?"

"We're looking for someone," Aerenwen replied.

"An old man named Esbern," Nesta added. "I think he may be the one that pays the beggars to bring him food."

Brynjolf nodded. "Could be," he replied. "You're not the first to come looking for him lately. We had some unusual guests just a few hours ago. Be careful, Nes."

Aerenwen was immediately on edge and exchanged glances with her siblings as she felt Aela stiffen at her side. The Thalmor were there.

"We didn't give them any help," Brynjolf added, "but they went into the sewers anyway. The man you're looking for is holed up somewhere in the Warrens. This lad over here may be of more help. He's been asking for you."

They followed the direction of his nod to see the man they had rescued from the Thalmor sitting at a table.

"He's been here for a few days," Brynjolf explained. "Won't talk to anyone but you, Nes. But I recognize him as one who used to deliver food to the old man."

"Etienne," Aerenwen supplied. "He was captured and tortured by the Thalmor for information. We freed him and told him to come back here and tell you I'd sent him."

Nesta nodded. She approached the man, and Aerenwen watched as she spoke quietly with him for a few moments, handing over a bit of coin after the discussion and giving him a friendly pat on the back.

"Give him a introductory job," Nesta stated when she had returned to Brynjolf's side. "See if he's got what it takes to be one of us."

Brynjolf nodded, and Delvin glanced in almost comical surprise between Nesta and the outsiders amongst them.

"Relax, Del," she said with a roll of her eyes. "There is little about me my sisters don't know, and they're trustworthy. Elain is the one who helped us in Windhelm, and Aerenwen may be the Harbinger of the Companions, but she's not going to cause any trouble for us. She could actually be of some help when we hit Whiterun, in fact, and besides. She's the Dragonborn, and she needs our help."

Delvin frowned but nodded after glancing at Brynjolf and seeing that he was not at all disturbed by these particular outsiders being present for Guild talk.

A blonde woman approached then, smirking slightly at Nesta, her blue eyes raking over those accompanying her. "You know, I've never found High Elves all that attractive, but something about the genes in your family . . ." she teased as she leaned up against the bar.

Aerenwen chuckled and nudged Aela with a nod toward Elain who looked upon the woman with a smirk.

"Well, I initially had a very poor outlook on Nords thanks to a less-than-satisfactory encounter," the dark-haired sister said in a low, flirtatious voice, "but I've recently developed a soft spot for beautiful blondes."

The woman laughed heartily and shot Elain a wink. "I'm assuming these are your sisters," she stated with a glance toward Nesta.

"Elain, Aerenwen, Aela, meet Vex," Nesta introduced with a grin.

"As lovely as it is to meet your friends, Nes, and as much as I enjoy watching Elain seduce her next conquests, if the Thalmor have already headed into the Ratway, we can't afford to delay any longer," Aerenwen stated.

Nesta nodded, seemingly remembering the reason her sisters were there.

"If the elves head out this way with the old man, we'll do what we can to delay them," Brynjolf offered.

Nesta thanked Brynjolf and gave him a quick kiss, and Aerenwen saw that her instincts had, once again, proven correct. Nesta and this man had some sort of relationship beyond business. It must not have been a sure thing yet, if Nesta hadn't chosen to share the information with her sisters, but it was serious enough that she didn't hesitate to show affection to him in front of others.

The Ratway Vaults were located through a door down a hallway from the Flagon. They were dark and damp and smelled of must, rot, and waste. It was not a pleasant place, and Aerenwen couldn't imagine how desperate someone must have to be to resort to living in such conditions.

They traversed the twisting sewers, delving deeper below the city. Most of those they encountered avoided the women who were obviously seasoned warriors, but a few attempted to engage them and were dispatched quickly. They encountered three Thalmor agents along their path who were a bit harder to take down, but they were successful nonetheless.

Aerenwen knocked on the wooden door Etienne had told Nesta about, and a small panel at eye-level slid open, revealing part of the face of an elderly man.

"Who are you?" he called out. "Go away!"

"Are you Esbern?" she asked.

"I don't know who that is!" he replied and immediately slammed the peep-hole shut.

"Esbern, open the door. I'm a friend."

"No, that's not me," came the reply. "I'm not Esbern. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Delphine sent me!" Aerenwen called out through the door.

"Delphine!" he gasped. "So you've finally found her, and she led you to me. Here I am, caught like a rat in a trap."

"The Thalmor have found you," Aerenwen replied. "You need to get out of here."

"Oh, how reassuring!" the old man bit back sarcastically. "Most likely you're with the Thalmor, and this is just a trick to get me to open the door."

Aerenwen sighed and then remembered what Delphine had told her to say. "Where were you on the 30th of Frostfall?"

The peep-hole slid open again. "Delphine is really alive, then?"

Aerenwen nodded.

"Alright. You'd better come in and tell me how you found me and what you want," Esbern replied. "Just a moment. There are several locks here," the man called out. The women stood waiting, not quite patiently, as they heard several locks on the door disengage as he muttered to himself before the door finally opened. He closed and locked it behind them.

Esbern was a balding Nord of advanced age with a full white beard. He wore ragged clothes and looked a bit worse for wear. His room was surprisingly large and, even more surprisingly, rather clean and well-stocked. Books and various objects littered bookshelves, and candles lit the otherwise dark room.

"So Delphine keeps up the fight after all these years," Esbern stated as he crossed his arms and glanced at the group of women he had just allowed into his room. "Her fight is useless. The end is upon us. I may as well die here as anywhere else. I'm tired of running."

"What do you mean the end is upon us?" Aerenwen asked, not liking how defeated the old man sounded. Delphine had been nothing but a picture of determination during all this. Paranoid yes, but never defeated like Esbern appeared to be.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" he asked. "What more needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on? Alduin has returned, just as the prophecy said! The Dragon from the dawn of time who devours the souls of the dead. No one can escape his hunger, neither here nor in the afterlife! Alduin will devour all things, and the world will end. Nothing can stop him. I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen. Fools. It's all come true. All I could do was watch our doom approach."

"Alduin," Aerenwen commented, recognizing the name as one the dragon she had slayed in Kynesgrove had used when addressing the black dragon who had destroyed Helgen. "He's the dragon who is raising the others."

"Yes!" Esbern replied, his passion for the subject finally overcoming his despair. "You see. You know, but you refuse to understand! It's all been foretold. The end has begun. Alduin has returned. Only a Dragonborn can stop him, but no Dragonborn has been known for centuries. It seems the gods have grown tired of us. They've left us to our fate as the plaything of Alduin the World-Eater."

Aerenwen smiled softly at the old man, hoping to comfort him. She would take time to process all he was saying after they'd gotten him out of the Ratway and away from the Thalmor who hunted him. "It's not hopeless, Esbern," she stated softly. "I am Dragonborn."

Esbern's eyes widened, and he seemed to stagger back as a physical reaction to the shock of her statement. "What?! You . . . can it really be true? Dragonborn?"

Aerenwen nodded, and when the old man glanced at her sisters and Aela, they nodded as well.

"Then there is hope!" he exclaimed with a wide smile. "The gods have not abandoned us! We must . . . we must go quickly now. Take me to Delphine. We have much to discuss."

Aerenwen watched as the old man rushed around the room, filling a couple of bags with books and other supplies he considered necessary to take. Elain and Aela stood guard nearby, and Nesta watched Esbern curiously.

"You're talking about the literal end of the world?" Aerenwen asked the old man as he packed.

He nodded as he shoved a few books into one of the bags. "Oh yes. It's all been foretold," he replied but offered nothing else.

"Why are the Thalmor so interested in finding you?" she wondered.

"Well, they've been hunting down the Blades since the Great War on general principle," he replied. He stopped a moment to study the contents of another bookshelf, deciding upon two tomes to bring with him. "But if you mean me, now, in particular . . . maybe they've started to get an inkling of what the return of the dragons means. I don't suppose they want the world to end any more than we do, or at least, they'd prefer it to end on their terms."

Aerenwen couldn't help but smirk at that comment, and she heard her sisters chuckle.

"What happened on the 30th of Frostfall?"

"It was a cold day," Esbern replied. He placed one of his bags over his shoulder, and Nesta stepped forward to take the other. "The end of Frostfall is nearly winter in the Jerall Mountains. We heard the news at Cloud Ruler by courier, riding hard from the Imperial City. The 30th of Frostfall, 171. Thirty years ago. The Great War started that day. The Thalmor ambassador gave his ultimatum to Emperor Titus Mede - the heads of every Blades agent within the Aldmeri Dominion. I knew, that day, that it was truly the beginning of the end."

He glanced once more around his room and then nodded at Aerenwen. "Very well, Dragonborn. Let's get moving."

* * *

The trip out of the Ratway had been a bit more treacherous than the trip in. The place was overrun with Thalmor agents who the group had to battle at nearly every turn. They made their way to the Flagon and breathed a sigh of relief. The Thalmor wouldn't act against them there. There would be too many witnesses.

Nesta then led the others out of the sewer and into her home. She introduced them to her housecarl whom she commanded keep watch for any Thalmor who may be roaming the city. Though they didn't think they had been followed, one could never be too certain.

Esbern rested in Nesta's bed while the sisters and Aela chatted quietly around the hearth. After hiding out for years, the old man, though a skilled mage and once a talented warrior, lacked the stamina he'd once had, and just the journey through the tunnels had taken a lot out of him. They would let him rest until nightfall and then travel in the direction of Riverwood under the cover of darkness.

"This is some deep stuff you're dealing with," Nesta commented, studying Aerenwen. "You okay?"

Aerenwen sighed. She wasn't sure, honestly. She simply shrugged. "I knew the return of the dragons was big and had to mean something. I knew being Dragonborn meant that everyone was counting on me to take care of the dragons, but I had no idea this was some huge, world-ending event. It's overwhelming."

"We're here, Ren," Elain promised at the same time Aela took her hand. "You're not alone in this."

Aerenwen nodded. Though it wasn't entirely true - apparently defeating Alduin was something she and she alone could accomplish - she appreciated their support. Without it, she feared she would crumble under the pressure.


	30. Blades Reunited

Chapter Four: Blades Reunited (Morndas, Tenth of Frostfall)

The journey to Riverwood took much longer than it should have. Nesta remained behind in Riften, and the rest did their best to stay off the roads. Though agents of the Thalmor were not generally seen wandering the roads of The Rift, being that it was a Stormcloak Hold, and they would be attacked by soldiers on sight, with them being in Riften and probably now realizing someone else had reached Esbern first, they felt it was better to be safe than sorry.

They camped overnight in Ivarstead. The innkeeper remembered Aerenwen and Aela from their previous visit and connection with Nesta and agreed to keep their presence discreet and alert them if any Thalmor were seen around the town.

When they finally entered The Sleeping Giant, all four of them breathed a sigh of relief, and Delphine stared in shock from where she stood sweeping by the fire.

"Esbern," she nearly whispered.

"Delphine!" he gasped, rushing toward his old comrade. "It's good to see you. It's been . . . a long time."

The woman nodded and smiled. "It's good to see you, too, Esbern. It's been too long, old friend." She leaned her broom against the wall nearby and nodded toward the door to her bedroom. "I'm glad you made it safe and sound. Come. I have a place we can talk."

Esbern nodded and followed Delphine toward her basement war room as she barked out orders for Orgnar to keep watch of the place. Aerenwen followed, and unlike in the past, Aela and Elain did as well. They were in this, too, now, after all, and they weren't about to leave her side if there was any way they could help.

"Now then," Delphine stated as she took her usual spot leaned against the planning table. "I assume you know about . . ." she trailed off but nodded toward Aerenwen.

"Oh yes! Dragonborn!" Esbern replied with a wide smile. "Indeed, yes. This changes everything, of course. There's no time to lose. We must locate . . ." he trailed off as he dug through the bag he was carrying. "Let me show you." He continued searching. "I know I had it here somewhere."

"Esbern, what . . .?" Delphine interrupted his muttering, but he didn't let her finish her question.

"Give me just a moment," he stated. Finally, he pulled a book from the bag. "Ah! Here it is. Come, let me show you." He placed the book down on the table and thumbed through it, finally landing on a map of some sort. "You see, right here. Sky Haven Temple, constructed around one of the main Akaviri military camps in The Reach, during their conquest of Skyrim."

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Delphine asked with a glance toward Aerenwen.

The Dragonborn shook her head.

"Sssh!" Esbern ordered. "This is where they built Alduin's Wall, to set down in stone all their accumulated dragonlore. A hedge against the forgetfulness of centuries. A wise and foresighted policy in the event. Despite the far-reaching fame of Alduin's Wall at the time - one of the wonders of the ancient world - its location was lost."

"Esbern, what are you getting at?" Delphine asked. Her tone showed her frustration at the old scholar's rambling.

"You mean . . you don't mean to say you haven't heard of Alduin's Wall?" he asked, a mixture of shock and disgust. "Either of you?"

"Let's pretend we haven't," Delphine answered with a sigh. "What's Alduin's Wall and what does it have to do with stopping the dragons?"

"Alduin's Wall was where the ancient Blades recorded all they knew of Alduin and his return," Esbern explained. "Part history, part prophecy. Its location has been lost for centuries, but I've found it again. Not lost, you see, just forgotten. The Blades archives held so many secrets. I was only able to save a few scraps."

"So you think Alduin's Wall will tell us how to defeat Alduin?" Delphine confirmed.

"Well, yes," the old man answered with a nod of his head, "but there's no guarantee, of course."

"Sky Haven temple it is, then," Delphine declared. "I knew you'd have something for us, Esbern. How do we get there?"

"That's the part I'm not entirely certain of," he replied. "I need to spend some time comparing this old map with contemporary maps of The Reach. Hopefully, within a few days' time, I will have determined its location."

"Do you have any questions?" Delphine asked Aerenwen. She shot a glance at her companions, clearly displeased by their presence but chose not to say anything about it.

Aerenwen shook her head. "It seems to me that any questions I ask at the moment result in answers that just lead to more questions. I will let Esbern determine the location of this Sky Haven Temple and see what exactly we find there before I decide if there's anything further I need to know."

Delphine nodded. "Very well. Meet us back here in a week's time, and we will hopefully know how to reach the temple by then. Be prepared to travel. If we've determined it's location, we'll leave as soon as you arrive. Keep your eyes on the sky, Dragonborn."


	31. Finn's Lute

Chapter Five: Finn's Lute (Tirdas/Middas, the 11th/12th of Sun's Dusk)

Aerenwen slowed as she approached her home and saw the tall, thin figure of an Altmer man standing outside it. Elain had left as soon as they had returned from Riverwood, wanting to check in at home and having some sort of business to attend to. She promised to check in soon and made her sister promise in return to contact her should she need assistance. The elder sister had promised she would but didn't see the need for Elain to hang around. The Thalmor were unlikely to enter Whiterun in search of her, and Aela and the former Blades would serve as good companions when they went searching for the temple in a weeks' time.

In the meantime, Aerenwen planned to lie low in Whiterun, spending time with Hamish and attending to her duties as Harbinger, but the sight of an unknown Altmer outside of her home had her fearful that she had been wrong in her assumption that the Thalmor would not enter the city.

She had just laid her hand on the hilt of her sword when the man in front of her house turned just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his profile - a profile she would recognize anywhere.

"Steffen!" she called out with a smile.

Her brother turned and grinned in her direction, receiving her embrace once she'd reached him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. She unlocked her door and led her brother inside her home. She knew both Lydia and Hamish were out at the moment, and Aela had gone on a mission with Athis.

"I'm on business for the Bard's College," he replied. "Well, sort of." He shrugged. "It's not official business, but I know they'll be pleased if I'm successful."

Aerenwen tipped her head in curiosity and gestured for him to have a seat in one of the chairs near the fire.

"My advisor, Inge, is Dean of Lute at the College," he explained. "She was recently lamenting on the loss of a particular artifact that was once in the College's possession. Finn's Lute. It was stolen by bandits some time ago. I did some digging, and I think I've tracked its location to a bandit hideout known as Stony Creek Cave in Eastmarch. I have my housecarl, Jordis, with me. She's out at the stables, but I thought I'd check in with you and see if you would like to travel with us. I have no idea how many bandits will be there, and two swords are always better than one."

Aerenwen nodded. "What's so special about this lute?" she wondered.

"It was the very first eight course lute ever created," Steffen replied. "Inge procured it for the College years ago and considered it her most prized possession."

Aerenwen pulled out her map, and her brother showed her the location of the cave on it. It was a few hours ride away, and she figured they could make the trip there and back easily in one day.

"I'll help," she decided, "but I'd rather not leave until tomorrow. There's been a lot going on with the Dragonborn business, and Aela will worry if I disappear while she is away. Plus, I promised Hamish we would picnic together for dinner tonight."

Steffen smiled. "I'll reserve a room at the inn for my housecarl and I for the night."

"You're welcome to stay here," Aerenwen offered.

"I know. Thank you," he replied. "Now tell me what's going with the dragons, Lady Dragonborn."

Aerenwen chuckled. "I've been working with some former Blades agents to determine why the dragons have returned," she explained. "One of them was an archivist back when the Blades were prominent, and apparently the return of the dragons was prophesied. Alduin the World-Eater has returned, and it seems only the Dragonborn can stop him."

Steffen's eyes were wide. "How?"

"That is what I don't know yet, brother," Aerenwen answered with a wry grin. "Now tell me, how is life in Solitude? How are your studies? How is your lady friend?"

* * *

Stony Creek Cave was located beside a small lake, and they found the entrance easily enough in a rocky outcrop. Inside, a small pool had developed that fed into the lake at the base of a small waterfall. A corpse lay draped across the top of the falls, and Steffen cringed.

"That's a welcoming sight," he muttered, causing his sister and housecarl to both chuckle.

They followed a pathway up around the edge of the small falls and then waded through shin-deep water up a stream flowing out from deeper within the cave. As they rounded a corner, Aerenwen could smell a strong odor and could see a cloud of a gaslike substance in the air ahead of them. Fearing a trap, she held up her hand, gesturing for the others to stop.

"What is it?" Steffen asked.

Aerenwen simply shook her head and motioned for them to step back. She summoned a flame spell into her palm and shot the flames ahead of her. Immediately, the gas in the air ignited and traveled further into the cave, the sounds of explosions following.

Steffen glanced at her in surprise. He hadn't even noticed the presence of the gas.

"I think I'm even more glad your brother invited you along now, Dragonborn," Jordis commented.

Aerenwen shrugged. "I feared if I didn't ignite the gas, something would ignite it while we were walking within it."

The others nodded at her reasoning and followed her further upstream into the cave. A few dead bandits marked their path now, their scorched remains still smoking from the results of Aerenwen's fire spell.

Eventually they came to a well-lit path leading up into the rocks on the right of the stream, and they followed it. Aerenwen battled a bandit on a platform part of the way up, but he was no match for her. Another narrow path led off to the left, and they followed it, avoiding a trap, to discover a small furnished cave at the end of the tunnel. A man stood over an alchemy table within the room, and Jordis defeated him after catching him by surprise.

Within the room, they found a great deal of pilfered goods. Aerenwen pocketed a few books and a bright pink gem in an ornate case that intrigued her, and Steffen found an aged lute in a chest that he hoped to be the one he was looking for.

As they made their way back outside, Steffen thanked his sister for accompanying him.

Aerenwen shrugged. "Honestly, compared to what I've been dealing with lately, this was kind of fun."

Steffen chuckled and shook his head.


	32. Cultists

Chapter Six: Cultists (Turdas/Fridas/Loredas, 13th/14th/15th of Sun's Dusk)

With things being unusually quiet, Aerenwen decided to finally take the time to return to High Hrothgar. The horn of Jurgen Windcaller had been safely stashed inside a chest in her bedroom since she'd retrieved it from Ustengrav all those weeks ago, but she'd been so caught up with her business with Delphine and the Companions, that she hadn't found the time to make the long journey back to the monastery.

She and Aela spent a night in Ivarstead, and this time, when Aerenwen climbed the 7000 steps, the Huntress accompanied her.

Arngeir greeted them in the main hall of the monastery. Aerenwen pulled the horn from her satchel, and the old man smiled.

"Ah, you have retrieved the horn of Jurgen Windcaller," he observed as he took the horn from her. "Well done. You have now passed all the trials. Come. It is time we recognized you fully as Dragonborn." He turned to Aela. "Though any friend of the Dragonborn is welcome here, I must suggest you stay out of the way for this. The combination of our voices will be great, and we mean you no harm."

Aela nodded and glanced slightly at Aerenwen in concern as she retreated off to the side of the room, sitting down on a stone bench against the wall.

Aerenwen stood in the center of the room, and the monks all knelt around her. First, she was taught the final word of the unrelenting force shout in the same manner she had learned the other words from the monks. Then, the ritual began.

"Stand between us and prepare yourself, Dragonborn," Arngeir stated. "Few can withstand the full voice of the Graybeards, but you are ready."

Great, echoing voices filled the room, and the ground seemed to quake as a result. Aela gripped the edge of the bench she sat atop and cringed at the loudness of the sound, looking on in awe as Aerenwen stood, unscathed, despite the great power directed at her.

"You have tasted the voice of the Graybeards, Dovahkiin, and passed through unscathed," Arngeir stated when the ritual was complete. "High Hrothgar is open to you."

Aerenwen nodded in thanks. "What was it you just said to me?" she asked.

"We spoke the traditional words of greeting for a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance," Arngeir explained. "The same words were used to greet the young Talos when he came to High Hrothgar long before he became the Emperor Tiber Septim. Long has the Stormcrown languished with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the dragon of the north, harken to it."

Aerenwen nodded. "Do you have any further teachings for me?"

"At this time, no," the old man replied. "There are many walls with words of power carved upon them located throughout Skyrim. I suspect you have already discovered some." At her answering nod, he continued. "Collect these words. Absorb them. Learn their knowledge. This is your next step toward growing your Thu'um."

"Thank you, Arngeir, for your guidance."

Back in Ivarstead, Aela and Aerenwen approached the inn, but their way was blocked by a person wearing odd clothing - brown robes unlike any belonging to any monk or order Aerenwen had ever seen and skull-like masks reminiscent of dragon skulls.

"You there!" the masked person stated, pointing a gloved hand toward Aerenwen. She noticed another person in the same clothing and mask not far behind them on the road. From the voice, this person was a man, but it was impossible to tell otherwise due to the flowing nature of their robes. "You're the one they call Dragonborn?"

Aerenwen glanced at Aela. "Yes. I am Dragonborn," she replied, turning back toward this mysterious person.

"Your lies fall on deaf ears, Deceiver!" he exclaimed, summoning a flame spell to his hand. "The true Dragonborn comes. You are but his shadow! When Lord Miraak appears, all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppose him!"

The two women pulled their swords and fought off the unexpected attack. They were soon joined by two guards, and it took all four of them to dispatch of the oddly dressed attackers. Their destruction magic was advanced, and they fought with a ferocity and devotion Aerenwen had rarely encountered. Whoever they were, whatever their purpose, they were willing to die for it and threw themselves into the battle without fear.

When they lay dead on the ground, Aerenwen thanked the guards for their assistance, and Aela kicked off their masks, revealing a Dunmer man and a Nord woman.

Aerenwen knelt down and rifled through their robes in search of anything that may hint as to who these people were and what on Nirn they could have been talking about. She found a hand-written note on one of them.

 _Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm and begin your search. Kill the false Dragonborn known as Aerenwen before she can reach Solstheim. Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased._

"Where is Solstheim?" Aerenwen asked after handing the note to Aela to read.

"It's an island to the north, located closer to Morrowind than Skyrim," the Huntress replied. "Raven Rock is its main port. Who is Miraak?"

"I have no idea," Aerenwen answered. A feeling of dread filled her as she realized yet another thing had been added to her plate. But first she needed to handle Alduin, then she could figure out just who this Miraak was and why they wanted her dead.


	33. Markarth

Chapter Seven: Markarth (Morndas/Tirdas/Middas, 17/18/19th of Sun's Dusk)

It had been a long afternoon. Aerenwen and Aela had arrived at the Sleeping Giant Inn at noontime. They'd shared a meal on the house, a benefit of being 'in' with the innkeeper, and had spent the last several hours in Delphine's war room, listening to the older woman and Esbern argue about the location of Cloud Ruler Temple.

Esbern had guessed at a rough area by comparing the ancient maps with modern ones, but he was ready to take off and explore the area without knowing its exact location. Delphine disagreed. The Forsworn, a group of rogue warriors who were known for their vicious attacks on anyone travelling through the mountainous region, littered the area, and she didn't want to risk battling them without knowing exactly where they were going. For once, Aerenwen agreed with the over-cautious blonde.

"Alright, enough," Aerenwen finally barked out, fed up with the constant bickering. "I have a sister who calls Markarth home. She's a scholar and has no doubt made herself quite familiar with the region. I vote we head to Markarth and consult her. Perhaps she, or someone she knows, would be able to help us pinpoint a more precise location for the temple."

Delphine seemed to think on it for a moment, and Aela cast her Altmer lover a smirk. Of anyone, Aela was a woman of action, and Aerenwen imagined she, even more so, was frustrated with the constant rounds of discussion.

"Alright," the former Blade finally relented after casting a glance at Esbern and seeing his pleased smile. "That would be progress at least. If we leave now and travel through the night, we'll be in Markarth tomorrow."

Aerenwen stood and Aela pushed herself off the wall where she had been leaning. They watched as Esbern gathered some books and placed them in his satchel and then followed the two Blades up the stairs.

* * *

Markarth was a beautiful city. Aerenwen had never seen anything like it, and Aela watched her with fond amusement as she took in the ancient Dwemer architecture. She knew the Altmer had been itching to explore some of the ruins that littered Skyrim's mountains, but between Companions and Dragonborn business, she had not had the opportunity yet. This was the closest she had gotten to exploring one of the ancient elven cities, and she glanced around the bustling metropolis with wide eyes that glittered with excitement.

They got directions to Glenys' home from one of the city guards, who hadn't been exactly eager to help them until Aerenwen stated that the other Altmer was her sister, and Esbern had revealed the fact that she was the Dragonborn.

The home Glenys had been given as Thane of the Reach was located at one of the highest points in the city, and the group climbed dozens of steps to reach it. Upon arriving at the top of the stone staircase, they met a large, Nord warrior who sat in a wooden chair outside the door, sharpening his steel dagger with a wetstone.

"May I help you?" he asked, a slight frown gracing his features.

"Yes, we're looking for Glenys," Aerenwen replied, knowing if this man knew his sister, he would be on the lookout for any possible Thalmor who may be trying to find her. "I am her sister, Aerenwen."

At this, the man smiled and stood up, eagerly shaking the tall woman's hand. "Dragonborn! Welcome! I am Argis, your sister's housecarl. They call me the Bulwark. Come! Your sister is inside."

They followed the man into the home, and Aerenwen glanced around curiously. Like the rest of the buildings in Markarth, it was an old Dwemer structure, but as they delved deeper into the home carved within the mountainside, she could see little pieces of her sister's personality that had been added since she'd moved in, including an extensive library.

Glenys appeared in the large room they first entered at the same time they arrived, and she smiled broadly when her eyes found her sister. "Aerenwen!" They embraced. "I've heard much of your exploits from our sisters and random townsfolk eager to share the rumors of the Dragonborn, but it's so good to see that you're safe with my own eyes. You look well."

"As do you, sister," Aerenwen replied. "This Aela," she stated, pulling the Nord woman to the front of the group, and Glenys caught the warrior off guard when she pulled her into a hug as well.

"It's so good to finally meet you," Glenys gushed.

Aela agreed, and as she had with Aerenwen's other siblings, she glanced between the two, comparing their appearance. The eyes were similar, the chin perhaps, but for the most part, Glenys favored Nesta, Mari and Steffen a bit more than she did Elain and Aerenwen. She had a softer look about her, even in comparison to Nesta, with light brown hair and thin features.

"And this is Delphine and Esbern." Aerenwen continued the introductions, gesturing toward her two older companions. "They are colleagues of mine in the Dragonborn business."

"It's good to meet you," Glenys stated, reaching out to shake their hands. They obliged, Esbern more excitedly than Delphine who, as always, was a bit reserved. Aerenwen had no doubt that Esbern had taken in the extensive library on their left and recognized a fellow scholar when he saw one.

"You as well," he gushed. "Aerenwen thought you may, perhaps, be of some help to us. We're trying to pinpoint the precise location of a ruin, Cloud Ruler Temple."

"The ancient Akaviri temple!" Glenys replied excitedly with a nod of her head. "It was the base of the Blades in Skyrim, was it not?"

Esbern grinned, and even Delphine seemed to look upon Glenys with new appreciation. "Yes," the old man confirmed. "I've discerned an area I believe it to be located in, by comparing the ancient maps with modern ones, but these three are reluctant to go out exploring without knowing exactly where we're going, what with the presence of the Forsworn in the area."

"My fight is not with the Forsworn," Aerenwen stated. "I don't wish to battle needlessly to find this temple."

"I may be able to help with that as well," Glenys offered. "I am an acquaintance, I suppose, of their king, Madanach. Perhaps, if we are able to pinpoint the precise location of this temple, he will allow us passage."

Delphine's eyes widened at that. "If you could arrange that, it would be immensely helpful."

"There's no guarantees, of course," Glenys replied, "but I can try. The Forsworn are just as affected by the presence of the dragons as the rest of us. If finding the temple will help you in this war with the dragons, it would behoove them to aide us in whatever way they can. What exactly are you hoping to find in the temple?" She began pulling tomes off the bookshelves and piling them on a nearby table.

"Alduin's Wall," Esbern replied.

Glenys nodded, showing she needed no explanation of what that was, but then she stopped in her search through her books and turned toward the group with wide eyes. "Does that mean . . . Alduin has returned?" She glanced at her sister with a concerned and fearful expression.

Aerenwen nodded. "I've encountered him twice," she explained. "He is the reason the dragons are returning."

"We're talking the literal end of the world if he isn't defeated, aren't we?" Glenys asked, though from her tone, it was clear she already knew the answer.

Aerenwen nodded gravely.

Glenys blinked and shook her head. "Esbern, show me the area where you believe the temple to be located."

The old man pulled out his books, and the warriors sat down to watch as the scholars compared notes.


	34. Madanach

Chapter Eight: Madanach (Turdas, 20th of Sun's Dusk)

After hours of researching, combing through tomes, and comparing various maps, Glenys and Esbern were in agreement as to the most likely location of Cloud Ruler Temple. They supposed it was located around an area known to locals as the Karthspire. It was just south of Markarth, located around a bend in the river at the base of one of the Reach's many mountains, and as Aerenwen and Delphine had feared, it was one of the Forsworn's many base camps.

That was how, after a meal of roasted goat leg, grilled leaks, and baked potatoes, the group found themselves riding north rather than south to meet up with Madanach, the king of the Forsworn, in hopes to avoid unnecessary conflict in their quest.

The Reach was a beautiful province. In Aerenwen's opinion, it may have been the most beautiful province in Skyrim. Though the other areas of Skyrim certainly held gorgeous vistas, The Reach had a rustic, untouched pureness about it. It was littered with snow-capped mountains. The valleys between were full of roaring rivers and damp forests, and Aerenwen wished she had the time to explore the unclaimed wilderness she had no doubt was littered with unexplored caverns and ancient ruins.

According to Glenys, Madanach was camped in a cave known as Druadach Redoubt which was to the northwest of the small, mining village of Karthwasten. The group had been riding for a few hours through the twisting paths of the The Reach when their way was blocked by a group of fierce-looking warriors. They wore armor of animal hides with accessories comprised of bones, and their body was covered in war paint and tattoos.

Their weapons were drawn, but they weren't attacking, and they allowed Glenys to guide her horse closer as the rest of her group held their hands up in hopes of showing they meant no harm.

"We are looking for Madanach," Glenys announced. "He told me to find him here if I was ever in need of him."

"You are the one from Markarth they call Glenys, yes?" one of the warriors, a petite Breton woman with a shaved head asked.

Glenys nodded in reply, and the female turned toward one of the men and gave him orders in an odd language that seemed to be a mix between the native languages of the Bretons and the Nords. That warrior disappeared, and the two groups stood facing one another in a tense silence for some time until he returned with an elderly man and a large Orc warrior.

"Hello, Glenys," the old man stated. His smile was friendly as he studied the group she was with. "I won't lie, I am surprised you sought me out. What is it that you need?"

"Madanach, this is my sister, Aerenwen," the young elf stated with a nod toward her sister who slowly guided her horse forward so that the two Altmer now sat side by side upon their horses. "She is the Dragonborn, and her business in trying to stop the return of the dragons has brought her to The Reach."

Madanach gave the other woman a nod of respect. "We have heard the rumors of the elf woman who was born with the dragon blood and have seen the dragons who have returned with our own eyes. What brings you to the Reach, Dragonborn?"

"The return of the dragons is being orchestrated by the dragon known as Alduin," Aerenwen explained. "My colleagues and I are on a quest to stop him as the ancient Nords once did, and our search for answers has led us to seeking out the ancient Cloud Ruler Temple. We believe it to be located somewhere around the Forsworn camp called the Karthspire."

Again, the old man nodded. "The entrance to this temple is within the cave there," he confirmed. "What do you need from me?"

"My fight is not with the Forsworn," Aerenwen replied. "The dragons do not care whether you are a Nord, a Reachman, an Elf, a Stormcloak, or an Imperial. They are killing us all and will continue to do so if I do not stop them. The answers I seek will benefit people of all races, all clans, all political affiliations, and we were hoping you could help us access this temple through your people's camp without any bloodshed."

"That is an admirable desire," Madanach commented. He studied the group, deep in thought for a moment. "The words you say are true. Just three days ago, a dragon decimated one of our own camps. They are a plague on our land, and if you are able to stop them, it will benefit my kinsmen just as much as it would the Nords. I commend you for going out of your way to avoid unnecessary human casualties during your fight with the dragons, and you have earned my respect, Dragonborn. This is Borkul," he stated with a nod toward the large Orc who stood beside him. "He is one of my most trusted warriors, and he will accompany you to the Karthspire. From hence forward, anyone arriving there baring the ancient mark of the Dragonborn will be allowed access into the temple, and so long as no actions of aggression toward my people are made by yours, they will be received in peace."

"Thank you, Madanach," Aerenwen answered. "We appreciate your cooperation, and I assure you, we have no ill will toward your people. Our fight is with Alduin and his minions alone."

"Good luck, Dragonborn," the old man stated with a wry smile. "Your road is wrought with peril, but your heart is true and will guide you in your quest."


	35. Sky Haven Temple

Chapter Nine: Sky Haven Temple (Loredas, 22nd of Sun's Dusk)

The Karthspire was a Forsworn village built around winding streams off the river, nestled between steep cliffs. It was a primitive village, full of tents of animal hide and rustic relics to their old gods.

Madanach had sent word ahead, so they were expected, but Borkul had accompanied them and led them through the village. There were crumbled stone statues here and there, relics of some sort of temple or holy place the ancient Nords once had there.

The group received several curious looks as they passed through the village. They entered a cave filled with a few beds, bookshelves, and chests and lit by lanterns.

"This is where I leave you," Borkul stated in his deep, rough voice. "The entrance to the temple is through there." He nodded toward a narrow tunnel leading out of the cavern. "We've never accessed it. Those who built it didn't want outsiders to get in, I suppose. Good luck, Dragonborn."

Aerenwen thanked the Orc for his assistance and followed Esbern and Delphine who led the way through the tunnel.

The old man began ranting in his usual excited way when they came to a manmade area of the cave. It was located in a crevice, the blue sky visible far above them, and greenery grew upon the ancient structures. A stone bridge was lifted and inaccessible, and three stone pillars stood ahead of them. He explained the symbols on the pillars which were all ancient Akaviri in origin.

"So that one in the middle is the Dragonborn symbol?" Aerenwen confirmed.

Esbern nodded eagerly at her.

"Seems to me that would be the key if this temple was built as some sort of homage to the dragon blood," the elf commented. She turned the three pillars so that they all matched, after a bit of a struggle, and the stone bridge lowered.

The group continued through winding tunnels until they arrived in a small cavern. Pressure plates littered the floor, some of which were engraved with the symbol of the Dragonborn. On a whim, Aerenwen stepped on the first engraved one. When nothing happened, she continued following them in a path across the space to where a pull chain hung from a pillar. It was difficult, and on a few ocassions, she almost lost her balance, but soon she was close enough to lunge at the chain and pull it. A loud click echoed through the room, and the pressure plates no longer shifted under her weight, allowing the others to cross.

Eventually, they arrived in a large open cavern. A door appeared in front them, engraved with a face, and an intricate rounded tile sat in the middle of the floor.

"Wonderful!" Esbern commented as he studied the architecture. "Remarkably well preserved, too." He gestured toward the emblem on the ground. "Here's the blood seal, another of the lost Akavir arts. No doubt triggered by . . . well, blood. Your blood, Dragonborn.

"Look here!" He gestured toward the carving on the door ahead of them. "You see how the ancient Blades revered Reman Cyrodiil. This whole place appears to be a shrine to Reman. He ended the Akaviri invasion under mysterious circumstances, you recall. After the so-called battle of the Pale Pass, the Akaviri went into his service. This was the foundation stone of the Second Empire."

"So, I just put my blood on the seal?" Aerenwen asked, pulling her dagger from its sheath.

Esbern nodded, and Aerenwen sliced the sharp blade across her palm, kneeling down over the seal. The others watched as her blood began to trickle off her hand and onto the seal, and after a few moments, the door carved with Reman Cyrodiil's face opened for them.

"There's no telling what we might find inside!" Esbern exclaimed eagerly as he rushed through the now opened door with Glenys at his heels.

Vorstag chuckled at his lover and followed with Delphine trailing behind.

Aela approached Aerenwen and wrapped her wounded hand with a bit of clean cloth she had kept in her satchel. The elf leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the Nord's lips.

"It seems ages since we've been alone," she commented quietly.

Aela nodded in agreement. "We'll get to the end of this, Ren. Together."

They clasped hands, Aela holding a lit torch in her other hand, and entered the temple behind the others.

By the time they made it through the long passageway leading into the temple, Delphine and Vorstag had used their torches to light several braziers, illuminating the darkened room. It was massive and grand in its architecture but had a musty, damp feel and odor of being closed up and unused for so long.

Aerenwen quickly spotted Esbern studying a large, carved wall, using a torch to illuminate the intricate details.

She approached him.

"This is it?" she asked. "Alduin's Wall?"

The old man nodded distractedly. "Look," he said gesturing to the far left of the mural, "here is Alduin. This panel goes back to the beginning of time when Alduin and his Dragon Cult ruled over Skyrim. Here, the humans rebel against their dragon overlords," he stated as he moved further down the wall. "The legendary Dragon War. Alduin's defeat is the centerpiece of the wall. You see, here he is falling from the sky. The Nord Tongues - masters of the Voice - are arrayed against him."

"So, does it show how they defeated him?" Delphine asked. Aerenwen had been so caught up in the details of the wall, she hadn't realized the others had approached behind her. "Isn't that why we're here?"

"Patience, my dear," Esbern replied with a chuckle. "The Akaviri were not a straightforward people. Everything is couched in allegory and mythic symbolism." He turned back to the wall. "This here, coming from the mouths of the Nord heroes, this is the Akaviri symbol for 'Shout', but there's no way to know what Shout is meant."

"You mean they used a Shout to defeat Alduin?" Delphine asked, her skepticism clear in her voice. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yes," the old man replied. "Presumably something rather specific to dragons or even Alduin himself. Remember, this is where they recorded all they knew of Alduin and his return."

"So, we're looking for a Shout then," Delphine muttered. "Damn it."

Aerenwen, too, felt a bit disappointed. She had hoped with their discovery of the wall, the answer to defeating Alduin would have been more clear. Yet it seemed to only have led to more questions and searching.

"Have you ever heard of such a thing?" Delphine asked, her shrewd eyes on Aerenwen. "A Shout that can knock a dragon out of the sky?"

Aerenwen shook her head. "Not yet."

The older woman sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that. I guess there's nothing for it. We'll have to ask the Greybeards for their help." The amount of displeasure caused by this turn of event was obvious in the former Blade's expression. "I hoped to avoid involving them in this, but we have no other choice."

"What do you have against the Greybeards?" Glenys asked curiously.

"If they had their way, the Dragonborn would do nothing but sit up on their mountain with them and talk to the sky," Delphine answered, "or whatever it is they do. The Greybeards are so afraid of power that they won't use it. Think about it. Have they tried to stop the civil war or done anything about Alduin? No. And they're afraid of you," she added, turning back toward Aerenwen, "of your power. Trust me. There is no need to be afraid. Think of Tiber Septim. Do you think he'd have founded the Empire if he'd listened to the Greybeards?"

Aerenwen had to admit the woman had a point. The old monks were radical in their passivism, and she had no intention of ignoring the power she had somehow been given. If she was the key to stopping the end of the world and saving the lives of her family, she would do whatever she needed to do.

"I'm not afraid," she assured the surly older woman. "The Greybeards and their knowledge serve a purpose, but I do not agree with their lifestyle."

"Good," Delphine answered with a nod. "They can certainly teach you a lot, but don't let them turn you away from your destiny. You're Dragonborn, and you're the only one who can stop Alduin. Our lives are in your hands. Don't forget that."

Aerenwen's response was a simple nod as she turned back toward the wall which her sister and Esbern were still studying intently.

"Rest here for the night, Dragonborn," Esbern stated with a soft smile. "It's a long journey to High Hrothgar from here."

Aerenwen sighed and nodded, exchanging a glance with Aela. Another long trip. At least the journey to the Throat of the World would take them through Whiterun, and they could check in on Hamish and Lydia.

She could only hope the Greybeards were helpful. If they knew the knowledge they gave her would lead to a war with Alduin, they may not be so willing to share it.

 **Author's Note: I just noticed, when editing this, that I've been mistakenly using the name of Cloud Ruler Temple instead of Sky Haven Temple. For those of you who don't know, Cloud Ruler Temple is the Blades fortress located in Cyrodiil, and I guess I can blame this mistake on the fact that I've been going through a spurt of playing Oblivion instead of Skryim. Whoops :) At the moment, I'm not going back and editing the older chapters to fix it, but I have in this chapter and will make sure I refer to it correctly from here on out. Apologies to any who are sticklers for detail and were bothered by this slip.**

 **This is the end of this part of Aerenwen's journey. Next up, we'll follow Mari through the month of Sun's Dusk and see what all is going on with the Eye of Magnus up in Winterhold. Look for additions to story in the coming weeks.**


	36. Labyrinthian

Part V: Evening Star

 **Previously, in Aerenwen's story . . . Aerenwen is separated from her siblings upon arriving in Skyrim and is mistaken for a Stormcloak rebel and arrested by the Imperial Army. She escaped execution in Helgen thanks to a dragon and some new friends. After traveling to Whiterun to warn the Jarl of the dragon, she earns herself a title of Thane of the Hold and is given a home for her and her adopted son, Hamish, an orphan she rescued in Helgen. Aerenwen befriends members of the Companions and joins their ranks, eventually rising to the position of Harbinger, becoming a werewolf, and falling in love with her shield-sister, Aela the Huntress. She discovers she is the Dragonborn and sets out on a mission with the help of some former Blades and the illusive monks, the Greybeards, to discover the answer to the dragons' return. In doing so, she discovers their return was prophesied and is being initiated by Alduin, the World-Eater, and may herald the end of days. Most recently, she traveled to the Reach to discern the location of one Sky Haven Temple and, enroute to High Hrothgar to seek the Greybeards' council, agrees to help her sister explore Labyrinthian.**

Chapter One: Labyrinthian (Morndas/Tirdas, the First/Second of Evening Star)

The group of three Altmer, one Nord, and one Dunmer left Whiterun shortly before Dawn on the First of Evening Star, arriving on the outskirts of the ancient city of Labyrinthian mid-morning. They hadn't even had the opportunity to stow their horses or get their bearings before a roar echoed around them, and a frost troll began bounding in their direction.

"That's a warm welcome," Elain muttered as she and Aela began firing arrows at the beast.

Mari and Brelyna aided with destruction spells, shooting balls of fire from their palms that exploded on contact, and Aerenwen was able to quickly decapitate the troll who fell in a scorched heap in the snow beneath them.

The group climbed the expansive set of stone steps and took out a second frost troll in a similar fashion before they were left alone in the eery silence of the snow-covered ruins.

"This place is huge," Elain commented as they looked around. Buildings lie in various levels of disrepair, several sets of stone steps led up and down deeper into the ruins in different directions, and monuments and pillars dotted the landscape.

Aerenwen nodded her agreement and proceeded forward into a small, circular shaped building with open entrances. Inside, she found an alter of some sort with the frozen corpse of a Breton lying beside it, an Orcish dagger protruding from his ribs. On his person she found a plain, wooden mask and a note. She gathered from the contents of the note that it was written by someone else, someone this man had hired to lead him to these ruins and that there was something involving this wooden mask and others that caused him to travel to somewhere else somehow. This intrigued her, and she tucked the mask and note inside her satchel for later research. Aerenwen had read of the masks of dragonpriests and their great power, and something told her this had something to do with that.

Returning to her siblings, Aerenwen followed the group deeper into the heart of the courtyard of the massive ruins.

Brelyna studied the roughly sketched map she and Mari had been given before leaving the College. "That area over there is marked as Shalidor's Maze," she commented with a gesture toward the east, "and that is Lost Valkygg."

"What's that?" Mari wondered.

"Some burial tomb," the Dunmer replied, "from best I can guess. What we're looking for should be straight up these stairs."

The group emerged at the top of a wide set of stairs to find a massive doorway with intricate carvings. Elain pushed on it, but it didn't budge.

Their thoughts were interrupted when a ghostly apparition appeared before them.

A half dozen mages of various races stood in a circle before the door, and Aerenwen suspected they were glimpsing an image of the past.

"Come on!" one of them exclaimed. "We're finally here! Let's not waste any more time."

"Are you certain this is a good idea?" the Argonian amongst them asked.

"We'll be back at the College before anyone even knows we're gone," a woman, possibly a Redguard based upon her accent, assured.

"You would care about that," a fourth mage teased, "since you're the Arch-Mage's favorite!"

"Don't forget," the first mage stated, "this whole idea was Atmah's to begin with."

"Let's just go inside and see what's in there," a Nord insisted impatiently.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the group of apparitions disappeared.

"That was Arch-Mage Aren," Brelyna commented in shock. "He was here before."

Mari nodded her agreement and pulled a round, metal object out of her bag. She studied it a moment, a torc of some kind, before placing the ends of it into a metal piece upon the door. It fit, and suddenly, the door to Labyrinthian opened for them.

Inside, they stood in a chamber filled with various skeletons and burial urns. A stairway descended ahead of them.

The apparitions appeared again.

"I can't believe we're doing this," one of them muttered.

"Can you imagine the looks on their faces when we come back?" the first mage, the one Mari quickly whispered was the former Arch-Mage, answered.

"You keep talking like you're sure we'll find something useful in here," the Nord stated.

"Given the history of this place, it's more than likely there's still some amount of power here," another replied.

"Enchanted weapons, tomes of ancient knowledge, Shalidor's secrets themselves," Arch-Mage Aren said excitedly, "who knows what we could find!"

"And what if... What if there are things guarding this place?" the Argonian wondered, fear evident.

"Against six College-trained mages?" another asked. "I think we'll be fine."

Once again, the apparitions disappeared, and the group followed the steps deeper into the ruin.

At the foot of the stairs and down a narrow corridor was an iron gate. Aerenwen pulled the lever beside it, causing it to raise, but she, Aela, and Elain had barely stepped through when it crashed down behind them, separating them from the mages.

Mari quickly pulled the lever again, allowing herself and Brelyna to join her sisters and the huntress in a massive chamber. Tall, stone columns supported the ceiling which was at least three or four stories above them.

"Is that a dragon?" Elain wondered, gesturing toward the pile of bones in the center of the room.

Aerenwen was just about to confirm that, yes, she believed it was indeed a dragon when skeletons began to rise to their feet all throughout the chamber, and a roar echoed around them. The dragon rose as well, firing out a stream of frost in their direction. The group dove out of the way, and Elain quickly pulled another lever she found, allowing them to rush through the gate.

The next several minutes were spent with Aela and Elain pressed against the gate, aiming their arrows through the iron slats to take out the dozens of skeletons. Now and then the dragon would fire his frost in their direction, and the women were able to escape from the bulk of the damage by hiding in recesses in the corridor.

Eventually, all the skeletons seemed to have been taken care of, leaving only the dragon waiting for them in the chamber.

"Open the gate," Aerenwen ordered, and though her companions looked at her with concern, Elain followed her sister's instructions. Aerenwen stood at the opening and let out a great shout, "Fus Ro Dah!" which caused the skeletal dragon to fall backwards toward the center of the room where he had originally laid.

Aerenwen summoned a flame spell to her left palm and swung her sword in her right as she entered the room. The dragon stood, shaking off the shock of her attack. He readied himself to strike with his frost again, and with another shout, "Wuld!", Aerenwen was suddenly on the opposite side of the room.

Aerenwen stood with her back against the wall, advancing slowly as the dragon spun around in an attempt to find her. He let out an angry roar as arrows and fire balls from her companions hit their mark. At last he spotted her, closer than he had expected, and he reared back, ready to strike with his massive jaws. Aerenwen dove to the left, rolling into a somersault to escape his attack. She jumped to her feet and rushed forward. Another Unrelenting Force shout had the dragon collapsing in a heap, and she leaped forward, striking against its spinal column with her sword. Just a few whacks had decapitated the dragon, and Aerenwen watched as the massive skull rolled away from the rest of the body.

"And that's why they call you the Dragonborn," Elain teased as the rest of the women made their way toward the fallen dragon.

"I've never seen anything like that thing," Aerenwen commented. She wondered if there were enchanted dragon skeletons lying in wait in other Nordic ruins.

Aela grabbed her arm and pulled her into a fierce kiss. "You've gotten a bit smoother with all that since the Western Watchtower," she teased, causing the other warrior to chuckle.

The group split up to explore the large area, and Aerenwen discovered a corpse behind one of the stone pillars. It had obviously been there for quite some time and was barely recognizable, but she could tell it had been a mage, based upon the tattered robes it wore, and that this mage had been a Bosmer male.

"Do you think this was one of your Arch-Mage's companions?" she called out, garnering Mari's attention. Her sister and Brelyna approached and glanced down at the cadavar.

"More than likely," the shorter Altmer replied sadly. "They must not have been able to defeat the dragon."

"I'm really glad we brought our Dragonborn along," Elain called out from nearby.

"I can't even imagine what a shock it would have been to have seen that dragon rise up," Mari commented, "much more so than for any of us. We know of dragons as more than mere myths. You and Aela had fought them before. Back when they came here, dragons were still the stuff of legends. They were probably terrified."

Aerenwen nodded her agreement and glanced around. "We should move on."

The others followed her down another set of steps into a much smaller chamber. As they entered the area, the group of mages, now only five, stood before them.

"We... we have to go back," one of them stated. "We can't leave Girduin."

"We barely made it out alive, and you want to go back in?" the Nord bit out, sounding breathless.

"It's too late," the Redguard stated. "There isn't enough of him left to go back in after."

The Argonian let out a sob. "Gods, what have we done?"

Savos shook his head. "We can't go back. Might as well go forward. We can still do this."

"Savos is right," the Redguard agreed. "We can make it if we just stay alert."

The apparitions disappeared again.

"How come I'm getting the feeling that they didn't make it, aside from your Arch-Mage that is?" Elain commented.

Aerenwen stepped toward the center of the room where an etched tablet was perched atop a small, chest-high pillar. She read the words aloud to the others:

 _Hail All - Brave City Bromjunaar_

 _Forever These Walls Shall Stand_

 _May Enemies See Her Majesty_

 _May All Quake to Behold Her_

The group slowly followed another set of stairs down toward an iron door.

"Here goes nothing," Aerenwen muttered as she pushed it open.

Through the door were twin staircases leading down further into the ruin. The group split up, but soon, Elain and the mages, who had taken the stairway on the left, rejoined the others, stating their way had been blocked by rubble. As they descended, an eery voice filled the air around them.

"Wo meyz wah dii vul junaar?"

The guiding lights that the four elves had held over their palms were immediately extinguished, and Aerenwen felt oddly fatigued, like she did after using up her entire reserve of magicka energy on a very intensive spell.

"Is that dragon tongue?" Elain asked.

She nodded in confirmation.

"Any idea what that said?" her sister wondered.

She shook her head, and they reached the bottom of the stairs, finding a small room, the exit of which appeared to be a closed door that seemed to be covered with ice.

"What sorcery is this?" Aela wondered.

Before the mages could investigate, a ghostlike warrior emerged from the closed door, also glistening with the ice-like magicka. Aerenwen quickly blocked the swing of his sword, finding herself overcome with a chill. "Frost magicka!" she called out.

Mari and Brelyna shot fire spells at the spirit, and it was quickly defeated.

The combat, however, had awoken a sleeping draugr, who climbed out of his coffin behind the Huntress.

"Aela, behind you!" Aerenwen called out, and the other woman had immediately pulled her dagger and spun around, burying it to the hilt in the side of the draugr's neck before he had been able to inflict any damage.

"How do we get through?" Elain asked as Aerenwen stood beside Aela with an arm wrapped around her waist. The deeper into this ancient city they delved, the more on-edge she felt. She had no idea what more was to come, but it was clear this wasn't a typical Nordic ruin.

Mari shrugged and fired a few streams of fire from her palms toward the door. They watched as the ice melted, allowing them to open it.

As they stepped through the door, this time with Elain in the lead, the voice echoed around them again, once again draining them of their magicka temporarily.

"Nivahriin muz fent siiv nid aaz het."

Aerenwen really wished the Greybeards had seen fit to teach her some of the dragon language rather than only where it pertained to the shouts she had learned.

The group now stood in a great underground chasm. Elain held up her hand and drew her bow, and Aerenwen watched as she stealthily took out a draugr who had been patrolling a stone causeway below them.

Traversing this area was not easy. The only way through the vast space was across the narrow, stone bridges which were patrolled by at least a dozen draugr. Aerenwen did her best not to look down. She couldn't see the bottom in the darkness and had no doubt the fall would kill.

Luckily, Elain and Aela were able to take all of the draugr out from a distance before they even realized the group was there.

A corridor off the chasm led to a dead end - a room that had obviously once been used as a living quarters of some type. Enchanting and alchemy tables were set up, and a dead, rotting corpse lie within it. Bookshelves were lined with alchemical ingredients and books, and they paused a moment, allowing the mages to explore the contents of the room, before backtracking to the chasm and continuing downward.

As they descended further, the voice spoke again, resulting in the same magicka drainage, but this time, they understood him.

"You do not answer," he stated. "Must I speak in this gutteral language of yours?"

"Should we answer him?" Mari whispered.

Aerenwen shook her head. He knew they were there, but he may not know their exact location. She wasn't going to fall for his taunting.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of careful stepping and dozens more draugr, they reached the bottom of the chasm where a river flowed, and they waded through the ankle-deep rushing water toward a doorway. As Aerenwen reached forward to open it, the voice spoke again.

"Have you returned, Aren, my old friend?"

Aerenwen exchanged a glance with Mari who looked increasingly frightened, and then she opened the door.

This portion of the ruin was more a cave than anything else. Stones jutted out in stalagmites and stalagtites around them, and glowing mushrooms littered the surfaces. A locked gate lie ahead, and Elain picked it while Aerenwen and Aela disposed of a draugr roaming the area. Through the gate, they followed a rushing stream to a small room, and the mysterious being spoke to them again.

"Do you seek to finish that which you could not? You will only find failure once more."

"He can't see us," Aerenwen whispered. "He thinks we're your Arch-Mage."

Mari nodded, obviously agreeing with her sister, and they continued onward where the roar of an angry troll greeted them as they entered the next room.

Fire spells and arrows took care of that foe eventually, though Aerenwen had managed to receive a swipe from the beast's large hand, and she paused a moment to swig a health potion as Aela looked on in concern. Mari stepped forward and placed a glowing hand over her sister's shoulder where the bleeding claw marks immediately began to fade.

Through barred windows, they could see the next area, though it took them a few moments of exploring before they found the entrance to the multi-leveled cavern. Again, they traveled downward, taking out several patrolling skeletons as they went.

"I'm getting really fucking sick of trolls," Elain muttered as a roar echoed out from the room they were entering.

Aerenwen dove to the side to avoid a strike, and Aela quickly took down the offending troll with an arrow to its throat. A second troll was attempting to reach Elain who had managed to climb upon an outcrop of rock located just out of his reach. She fired her own arrows at him while the mages directed their fire spells in his direction as well, and he was defeated.

Eventually, the group came to a lowered gate. A lever was located beside it, and just as Aerenwen reached forward to pull it, the voice spoke out.

"You are not Aren, are you? Has he sent you in his place?"

Aerenwen pulled the lever, raising the gate, and they stepped through. She and Aela quickly dispatched the two skeletons who greeted them, but she paused as she heard a familiar shriek.

"Is that what I think it is?" Aela asked, her voice and expression a mixture of awe and fear.

"Wispmother," Mari commented from behind them.

In the center of the room was a glowing woman who floated through the air. Around her swarmed wisps, little round orbs of magical energy who orbited her until they sensed the intruder's presence. Then they began to attack.

Aerenwen darted around the room with her whirlwind sprint in an attempt to distract them while the archers and mages fired arrows and spells at the wispmother. Despite the fact that it was the wisps attacking, the elves knew it was the mother who needed to be handled first. If she wasn't taken care of, more wisps would appear, and they had even heard rumors that in battles that stretched on long enough, the wispmother could make replicas of herself.

She was exhausted by the time the wispmother was felled, and she leaned against a rock, breathing heavily. Mari appeared at her side with a stamina potion which she drank while the others took out the remaining wisps.

From there, the group's path took them through narrow corridors and down more stairs. Thankfully, the only foes they faced were simple skeletons who were almost ridiculously easy to defeat.

Finally, they came to a small room, the doorway of which appeared to be on fire, and they exchanged a glance, being reminded of the icy door from before.

"Did he warn you that your power would be your undoing?" the voice called out. "That it would only strengthen me?"

This time, when the spirit rose from the door, he appeared to be almost comprised of flames, and Aerenwen had to meet a few of his blows with her sword, suffering through the burning sensation of the fire magicka, until Mari and Brelyna's magicka reserves had restored, and they could take it down with frost spells. More frost was fired at the door, extinguishing the flames, and it opened for them.

Down a short passage and through another gate, they reached a circular room. The mages appeared before them, now only four.

Savos seemed to be urging the others on as they ran through the room.

"Come on, we can't stop now!" he ordered. "We have to keep moving!"

"Where's Elvali?" the Redguard asked as she stopped and looked behind her. "She was right behind me."

"Dead," the Nord replied as he approached. "Something grabbed her from behind. Gone before I could do anything."

"This is insanity," the Argonian muttered. "We never should've come here."

"You're right. This is all my fault." The Redguard sounded remorseful. "Should we turn around, head back?"

"I don't think going back is a good idea," the Nord stated.

"Going back would be the end of all of us," Savos agreed. "We keep pushing forward, and we'll make it. We will!"

The group disappeared again, and Aerenwen felt several things at once. On one hand, she pitied the group who had traveled before them. They had obviously underestimated Labyrinthian, and Aerenwen was beginning to wonder if anyone aside from Savos Aren had made it out alive. She was thankful that her sister hadn't made the same mistake and had enlisted help. While there was a great magic within this ruin, yes, a mage with no battle experience would have been dead immediately. It seemed to take a mixture of magicka and warrior skill to conquer this place, and that was something her group, thankfully, possessed.

Beyond that room, the ruin consisted of caves and ancient throne rooms. The draugr who roamed the rooms and sat upon the thrones were not like most draugr but, instead, appeared as ghosts and were a bit more difficult to defeat. Ghostlike warhounds accompanied them, and the group was growing weary. Aerenwen wasn't certain she'd ever explored a more challenging ruin in her life.

In one of the throne rooms, a word wall sat, and the others watched as Aerenwen followed the familiar chanting only she could hear. Aela supported her by the arm as she always did, although Aerenwen no longer found the rush of energy and knowledge from the wall to be overwhelming. She walked away with a new word, Tiid, and nodded toward the others that they should continue forward.

A long corridor with tall columns along each side extended ahead of them, and as they walked, dozens of ghosts appeared around them - draugr, warriors, skeletons, warhounds, even trolls.

As the group stood catching their breaths after defeating the numerous foes, the mages appeared before them and seemed to be missing their Argonian member.

"We shouldn't have left her there to die!" the Redguard cried out. It was clear she was emotional, and Aerenwen couldn't help but think how she had changed her tune since the beginning.

"What else could we do?" Savos asked. "Stay there and die with her? She refused to go on, we didn't have a choice!"

"This is it, you know," the Nord stated. "Through this door. Can you feel it?"

"We're not going to make it, are we?" the Redguard asked.

The Nord sighed. "We stay together, no matter what. Agreed?"

She nodded. "I'll be right with you."

Savos agreed as well. "We all stay together."

"What exactly is the it that is through this door?" Elain wondered after they had disappeared.

"Whatever they were looking for," Aerenwen replied, "and probably a dragonpriest."

Elain tilted her head in question.

"I've been thinking that is probably what has been talking to us," the warrior explained. "If this ancient city was the seat of their power, there's no doubt the spirit of one of them still here."

Brelyna nodded her agreement. "Their power lies within their masks. Remove the mask, and they are weakened immensely."

The rest of the group nodded in understanding, and Aerenwen pushed the door open.

Beyond the door stood a large room full of ruined archways, various stone stairwells, and multiple levels. They could immediately see the dragonpriest watching them from a platform above, but he appeared to be trapped within some sort of magical orb. The orb was created by two wizards who stood opposite him, and though they were far away, it was clear they were the Nord and Redguard who had accompanied Savos years ago.

"By the gods, what did Aren do?" Brelyna gasped.

"It looks like he spared his friends to save himself," Aerenwen commented.

"He must have cast some sort of thrall over them to cause them to remain here keeping the priest trapped in order to allow him to escape," Mari agreed. "They've been here for who knows how long, and he's had to live with what he had done. No wonder he didn't like to talk about Labyrinthian."

Brelyna made a 'tsk' noise with her tongue and frowned, obviously having just lost a bit of respect for her former Arch-Mage.

"You think that's the staff you need?" Aerenwen asked, nodding toward the dragonpriest. He was barely recognizable as a former human as he floated above the ground. Long, purple robes covered his skeletal frame, and an ornate mask hid his face. His bony hand clutched a long staff with a round, glasslike orb at its end.

"Probably," Mari replied. "How do we get it?"

"By defeating him?" Elain suggested with a shrug.

"How do we do that?" Mari asked again.

"By releasing him," Aerenwen replied.

"We won't be able to without killing the wizards," Mari argued. "If they're in a thrall-like state, their only purpose is to serve their master, assumedly Aren, who commanded them to keep him trapped."

"And the thrall was obviously not connected to Aren himself," Brelyna supplied. "Most thralls are freed when their master dies, or, as in this case, when the thrall has gone on for so long, they would die as well. Aren is dead, and neither of those things happened. We can't break the thrall, Mari, but we can free them of it and grant them some peace in their chosen afterlife."

The Altmer mage nodded but seemed saddened by the fact.

The group split up into the recesses of the room, hoping to not be immediately detected upon the release of the dragonpriest. Elain slunk through the shadows and eliminated the mages stealthily, and the dragonpriest began his eery descent toward the lower levels of the room where the majority of the group was hiding.

What followed was the most intense and difficult battle Aerenwen had ever fought.

This dragonpriest, whoever he was, was extremely powerful. He had a strong ward he would cast around him whenever he sensed an oncoming attack. He summoned storm atronachs and shot chain-lightning from his palms at his opponents. Thunderbolts he summoned shook the room and caused the women to lose their footing, and as he floated around the room, he would disappear into the shadows easily.

Mari, Elain, and Brelyna had just taken out their third storm atronach, and Aerenwen was growing tired from dodging lightning. Arrows and distance spells seemed the best way to defeat him, but thus far, they were causing little damage.

Aela finally crept close enough while the priest was distracted firing at Aerenwen, but as the Huntress raised her sword to strike him, his body became littered with lightning, and the others watched in horror as his attacker was electrocuted and fell to the ground.

"Aela, no!" Aerenwen cried out. She was filled with despair, with fear for her lover, and with an unmanageable amount of anger. Her beast wanted out. She'd need to apologize to her sisters later.

She let out a roar as she allowed her beast free of her cage and felt her body shift, her armor ripping off her frame as her Altmer form was replaced with that of a werewolf. She roared again and dove at the priest who actually seemed to be so caught off guard, he couldn't summon anything in time to defend himself.

Aerenwen grasped his mask in her strong jaws and ripped it from his face, tossing it aside with a turn of her head, and then ripped the priests skull off his body. He fell to the ground in a pile of ash, and Aerenwen was immediately an elf again, on her knees at Aela's side, her palms glowing golden with a healing spell as they hovered over her unconscious lover.

She felt someone wrap a cloak around her naked frame, but her focus was on Aela.

"Please, love, wake up," she whispered, tears filling her amber-colored eyes.

A cough alerted her to the fact that Aela was doing just that, and green eyes opened weakly and glanced up at her. A weak smile spread on the Huntress' face as she reached up and grasped Aerenwen's hand that lay on her cheek.

"Thank the gods," Aerenwen breathed out, dropping her head down and resting it on the other woman's abdomen. She breathed in the scent of the woman she loved, a bit more scorched smelling than usual but still Aela.

"Ren, why are you naked?" her lover's weak voice asked.

Aerenwen raised her head and looked at Aela sheepishly, then glanced at the others. Mari and Brelyna seemed frozen in place and were staring at her in shock. Elain, however, seemed completely nonplussed by her shifting and joined the other two women on the ground with Aerenwen's satchel. She pulled her sister's extra set of armor out and passed it to her as well as a strong healing potion she held to Aela's lips.

"I'm sorry," Aerenwen stated toward her other sister. "I couldn't think of any other way to defeat him quickly and get to her in time. I wouldn't have done that in front of you if I had thought there was any other way."

"No, I'm sorry," Mari replied with a shake of her head. "I didn't know . . . I was so insensitive when I told you about killing the werewolf outside of Falkreath all those weeks ago. Were you a werewolf then?"

Aerenwen shook her head. "I wasn't, not yet," she replied, "but Aela was."

The Altmer mage cast apologetic eyes in the other woman's direction.

"There's no reason to apologize, Mari," Aela assured her. "That man had no control over his beast and was a danger to any who encountered him. He needed to be killed, and I do not fault you for doing so. I would have done the same."

Mari nodded and turned back toward her sister. "Did it happen willingly?" she asked.

Aerenwen simply nodded her reply and watched her sister closely. She was obviously still surprised, but neither she nor Brelyna seemed afraid of her nor did they look upon her with pity or revulsion.

After getting dressed, Aerenwen retrieved the staff and mask from where they had fallen. She handed the staff to her sister and studied the mask. It appeared to be made of the rare mineral moonstone and was carved in an intricate facial design. A name, Morokei, was carved into it, and she assumed that was what the dragonpriest had been called.

After exploring the cavern a bit more, the group found another way out of the room, and an apparition of Savos Aren appeared in the corridor before them, crying and muttering to himself.

"I'm sorry, friends. I'm so sorry! I had no choice! It was the only way to make sure that monster never escaped! I promise you, I'll never let this happen again! I'll seal this whole place away..."

He then disappeared.

"Perhaps he can rest in peace now knowing we cleaned up his mess," Brelyna stated with a frown.

"His friends are free," Mari agreed, "and so is he."

At the end of the corridor was a barred door. Elain lifted the wooden bar and opened it, and the group traveled into a more traditional-looking burial crypt. Suddenly, a figure stepped in front of them - an Altmer man dressed in the robes of the Thalmor.

"So you made it out of there alive," he commented with surprise. "Ancano was right. You are dangerous."

The three sisters exchanged a glance.

"I'm afraid I'll have to take that staff from you now," he stated. "Ancano wants it kept safe. Oh, and he wants you dead. Nothing personal." With that, he summoned a flame spell to his hand and drew a sword, but Aerenwen had taken him out almost immediately. Most Thalmor were formidable foes, but this man's over-confidence had led to his undoing.

"I fucking hate those damned elves," Elain muttered as she searched the dead Thalmor for anything useful.

Finally, the group made it outside, and from the looks of things, it had taken them an entire day to traverse the ruin. The stars were out, and the moons, nearly full, were high in the sky.

"What do you say we head to Morthal?" Elain suggested. "It's much closer, and I, for one, am exhausted."

The others quickly agreed, and Aerenwen glanced over her shoulder at the ruin as she walked away clasping Aela's hand. They'd solved one riddle of Labyrinthian, but she suspected there were many more.

 **Author's Note: That is the first chapter of the fifth part of Aerenwen's story. All the siblings' have been updated to the end of Part IV.**


	37. Paarthurnax

Chapter Two: Paarthurnax (Fridas/Loredas, the Fifth/Sixth of Evening Star)

After spending the rest of that night in Morthal's inn, the group traveled together on horseback as far as Dawnstar with Mari riding with Aerenwen, and Brelyna riding with Elain, just as they had made the trip from Whiterun to Labyrinthian. Once there, the mages secured travel aboard a small currier boat, knowing the trip to Winterhold would be faster by sea, and the other three continued south on horseback.

When the road eventually forked, Aerenwen was surprised that Elain continued with them instead of turning toward Windhelm, but her sister explained that she had business in Falkreath Hold and parted ways with the others at the stables outside Whiterun.

Aerenwen stood at the edge of the road as the form of her sister on horseback grew smaller as it disappeared into the distance. Aela approached and looped her arm through the taller woman's after she had gotten their horses settled and checked in with the stable owner.

"That's the second time she's referenced business near Falkreath," Aerenwen commented. "I'd love to know what she's up to."

Aela frowned. "There's rumored to be a Dark Brotherhood sanctuary somewhere in the forests of Falkreath Hold," she stated after a few moments. "It's said back when they were at their greatest, they possessed two in Skyrim. One near Falkreath and one near Dawnstar. Hunters still tell fearful tales of encountering the mysterious black doors in the wilderness. I saw the one in Falkreath once when I was a girl. It stands within the recess of a stone cliff at the side of an unnatural pond. The water appeared to be almost black and was smooth as glass. I've never seen a pond so still."

"I thought the Dark Brotherhood was no more," Aerenwen replied as they made their way up the hill toward the gates of their home city.

Aela shrugged. "They say that is the case in the rest of Tamriel, but there have always been rumors of them still operating here in Skyrim. Nothing confirmed, of course, but people still claim their Black Sacraments are answered. Murders are still attributed to them."

Aerenwen nodded, deep in thought. Could that be what her mysterious sister was up to?

* * *

After spending a day in Whiterun to recooperate from their endeavor into Labyrinthian, check in at Jorrvaskr, and spend time with Hamish, Aerenwen and Aela set out for Ivarstead. They were greeted jovially by the locals and shared a pint with the familiar faces before retreating to the room they had rented for the night.

Like the second time Aerenwen had visited the monastery, Aela accompanied her up the 7000 steps. They both had their defenses up. The last time they had been in Ivarstead, they were attacked by unknown cultists who claimed Aerenwen wasn't really the Dragonborn.

Once arriving at the monastery, they were greeted by one of the silent monks and led to the large central room where Arngeir met them.

"Welcome, Dragonborn," he stated with a respectful nod. "What brings you to our mountain?"

"I need to learn the shout used to defeat Alduin during the Dragon War," Aerenwen replied, getting right to business.

"Where did you learn of that?" the old man asked in surprise. "Who have you been talking to?"

"It was recorded on Alduin's Wall," she replied.

He shook his head in disgust. "The Blades!" he spat. "Of course. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds."

So, apparently, the disdain Delphine felt toward the monks was reciprocated.

"They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom," Arngeir stated. "Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?"

Aerenwen had certainly never seen the old man so wound up before, but she also did not deserve to be spoken to like that. "The Blades are aiding me in my research on the return of the dragons. I am not a puppet, not for the Blades and not for you," she replied with narrowed eyes.

"No, no of course not, Dragonborn," Arngeir apologized immediately, seeming regretful of his words. "I have been intemperate with you, but heed my warning. The Blades may claim they serve the Dragonborn, but they do not. They never have."

Aerenwen barely contained an eyeroll. She was growing tired of old grudges and the lack of cooperation that resulted. She was trying to save the world, for Aetherius' sake. "Can you teach me this Shout?"

"No," Arngeir answered with a shake of his head. "I cannot teach it to you because I do not know it. It is called Dragonrend, but its words of power are unknown to us. We here at High Hrothgar do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice."

"I thought you knew all the words of power," Aerenwen challenged, not sure she believed the monk.

"All but Dragonrend," he replied. "The knowledge of that Shout was lost in the time before history began."

"If it's lost, how can I defeat Alduin?" she asked, exchanging a glance with Aela. She couldn't remember ever feeling this discouraged in her hunt for answers. She felt a bit like Delphine.

"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question," the monk replied, "if he so chooses."

"I need to speak with Paarthurnax, then," she insisted.

"You weren't ready," Arngeir answered. "You still aren't ready, but, thanks to the Blades, you now have questions only Paarthurnax can answer."

"How do I get to the top of the mountain to see him?" Aerenwen asked, remembering Arngeir's earlier words about their leader living in seclusion at the very peak of the Throat of the World.

"Only those whose Voice is strong can find the path," he answered.

Another one of the monks, usually silent, spoke in the dragon tongue, his voice shaking the very foundation upon which they stood.

Arngeir nodded. "Of course. Come. We will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax."

The two warriors followed the group of monks out to the courtyard behind the monastery, and Aerenwen gazed up the stairs that led toward the mountain's peak. Swirling wind and snow seemed to block the way.

The monks led them to a landing halfway up the stairs and paused, all of them turning toward the Dragonborn.

"The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate," Arngeir stated, waving his hand toward the archway at the top of the stairs that separated them from the swirling storm. "I will show you how to open the way."

All three monks shouted, and the words they spoke appeared carved in the ground before them. Aerenwen walked around the semicircle, studying each word until she knew them - Lok Vah Koor.

"I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies," Arngeir said as he approached her. "This is our final gift to you, Dragonborn. Use it well."

Aerenwen was overcome as she absorbed the old man's understanding of the shout.

"Clear skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time," Arngeir explained. "The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit."

"Thank you," Aerenwen stated with a respectful nod. She nodded toward all the Greybeards, and then turned to climb the stairs with Aela following.

When they reached the top, she stood beside the other woman. "Stay close," she ordered. Aela nodded, and Aerenwen released her new Shout.

The journey upward was perilous. The ground was slick, covered with snow and ice, and every few minutes, she needed to stop to shout Clear Skies once again to open the path before them. A few ice wraiths attacked, and they defeated them.

Finally, they reached the top. An open area lay before them with a partially collapsed word wall upon which was perched a dragon.

The two women immediately drew their weapons, but Aerenwen held a hand up to stop Aela from firing off an arrow at it. There was something different about this ancient-looking beast. He wasn't attacking, simply studying the duo as they approached. She'd read on the tablets and in texts about Paarthurnax, one of Alduin's top generals, who betrayed his master to help the humans and taught them to speak as dragons did. She'd thought, perhaps, the Greybeards' leader had taken the name in homage to the ancient dragon, but could it be possible that Paarthurnax had survived the Dragon War and been living here the entire time?

The dragon flapped its great wings and landed in front of the women.

"Drem Yol Lok," he stated in a deep voice. "Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah . . . my mountain?"

Aerenwen exchanged a glance with Aela who lowered her bow.

"I am the one they call Dragonborn," Aerenwen replied. "You're the master of the Greybeards?"

"They see me as master," Paarthurnax replied. "Wuth. Onik. Old and wise. It is true I am old."

Aerenwen chuckled. This dragon had a sense of humor.

"Tell me, why do you come here, volaan?" he asked. "Why do you intrude on my meditation?"

"I need to learn the Dragonrend shout," Aerenwen explained. "Can you teach me?"

"Drem. Patience," he answered. "There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the dov. By long tradition, the elder speaks first." He shouted and spit a long column of fire toward the word wall. As the flames receeded, Aerenwen could see one word glowing. She approached and was overcome by both the knowledge of the word and its understanding.

"A gift, Dovahkiin," the old dragon stated. "Yol. Understand fire as the dov do."

Aerenwen nodded at the dragon in thanks.

"Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as elf but as Dovah," Paarthurnax instructed. "Do not be afraid. Let me feel the power of your thu'um."

Aerenwen did as instructed and concentrated on the new word, releasing the shout, "Yol", along with a stream of fire in the direction of the old dragon.

He seemed pleased. "Sossedov los mul," he stated. "The dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind. And who is this?" he asked, turning his massive head in Aela's direction.

"This is Aela the Huntress," Aerenwen replied. "She is my most trusted companion."

Paarthurnax nodded in understanding before turning back toward the elf. "So, you have made your way to me. No easy task for a joor . . . mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"

Aerenwen repeated her question from earlier. "Can you teach me the Dragonrend shout?"

"I have expected you," Paarthurnax stated instead of answering right away. "Prodah. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No, you seek your weapon against Alduin."

"How did you know I would come for this reason?" she wondered.

"Alduin komeyt tiid," he answered, and she once again wished she was fluid in the ancient language of the dragons. "What else would you seek? Alduin and Dovahkiin return together. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me. Your kind, joarre, mortals, created it as a weapon against the dov, the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even comprehend its concepts."

"So it's a lost cause?" Aerenwen asked. "The Greybeards don't know it. You don't know it. It has long been forgotten in Skyrim. How can I learn it?"

"Drem. All in good time," Paarthurnax replied. "First, a question for you, Dovakiin. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"

Aerenwen was frustrated, but at the same time, there was something very calming about the old dragon's presence. "I need to stop Alduin," she answered. "I like this world. I don't want it to end."

"Pruzah. As good a reason as any," he commented. "There are many who feel as you do, though not all. Some would say that all things must end so that the next can come to pass. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"

"The next world will have to take care of itself," Aerenwen replied.

The dragon smiled. Could dragons smile? Apparently. "Paaz. A fair answer. Ro fus . . maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of time cannot see past time's end. Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who try to hasten the end may delay it. Those who work to delay the end may bring it closer, but you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question.

"Do you know why I live here at the peak of the Monahven, what you name Throat of the World?" he asked.

Aerenwen shook her head.

"Few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues," he explained. "Vahrukt unslaad. Perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated."

"Using Dragonrend?" Aerenwen asked. That was what the wall had insinuated, at least.

"Yes and no," he replied. "Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated. If he was, you would not be here today seeking to defeat him. The Nords of those days used Dragonrend to cripple Alduin, but this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the Kel, the Elder Scroll. They used it to cast him adrift on the currents of time."

"Are you saying the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time?" Aerenwen asked.

"Not intentionally," Paarthurnax replied. "Some hoped he would be gone forever. Forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amatiiv. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface which is why I have lived here. For thousands of years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when."

"How does this help me?" Aerenwen asked. Though she appreciated the information, she needed answers.

"Tiid krent. Time was shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin," he explained. "If you brought that Kel, that Elder Scroll back here to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound, with the Elder Scroll that was used to break time, you may be able to cast yourself back to the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."

Aerenwen nodded and exchanged a glance with Aela. "Do you know where I can find an Elder Scroll?" she asked the old dragon.

"Krosis. No," he replied. "I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I, Dovahkiin. Trust your instincts. Your blood will show you the way."

"Thank you, Paarthurnax," Aerenwen stated with a smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"You as well, Dovahkiin," he answered. "Come back when you have the Scroll or whenever you wish to tinvaak with an old dragon."


	38. Winterhold

Chapter Three: Winterhold (Tirdas/Middas, the Ninth/Tenth of Evening Star)

After meeting with Paarthurnax, Aerenwen and Aela had returned down the mountain, stopping at High Hrothgar before continuing onto Ivarstead.

Arngeir seemed saddened, and the Dragonborn was certain it was because she was clearly using her abilities for more than just worshipping the gods. Saving the world from Alduin wasn't exactly the way of peace, but it wasn't necessarily the way of war either. Sometimes wars had to be fought in order to achieve peace, and she truly felt this was one of those battles.

The old man had been pleased she had been received well by Paarthurnax, and since the master of his order had agreed to help, he was left with no choice but to do so as well. When asked about the Elder Scrolls, he claimed to know little about them but suggested visiting the College of Winterhold since the mages there seemed to deal in such things.

Which was how the two women found themselves strolling the main street of the small, snow-covered town in the fading light of early evening several days later. The trip had taken longer than they would have liked, though they had come directly from Ivarstead. A blizzard had waylaid them in Windhelm for a night, and visibility on the road north of that had been horrible.

Winter had come to Skyrim, it seemed, meaning the weather in those parts of Skyrim where the cold never left was even worse than usual.

As Aerenwen approached the bridge leading to the College of Winterhold, she hoped that the business with the Eye of Magnus had been concluded since her sister's return from Labyrinthian. They hadn't been in contact since parting ways, but she couldn't imagine her arrival would be very welcomed by any of the other mages if the College was still in a crisis situation. Not to mention, it was difficult for them to offer to help someone else prevent the end of the world, no matter who she happened to be, when they were dealing with their own apocalyptic events.

They were stopped at the end of the bridge by a guard, just as had happened all those weeks ago when the Companions had been in Winterhold after visiting Ysgramor's Tomb.

"Entrance to the College is restricted to staff and students," he stated.

"I'm looking for Mariwen," she replied. "Could you please tell her that her sister, Aerenwen, is here?"

He nodded and disappeared up the bridge. He returned but not with Mari. Instead, a different Altmer woman followed.

"Good evening," she stated with a polite smile toward the two women. "I am Faralda, a senior member of the College and one of the trainers of Destruction Magicka. I was told you are here to see our Arch-Mage?"

Aerenwen's eyes widened in surprise. "Um . . Mariwen," she stuttered out, "though if she is the Arch-Mage now, clearly some things have occured in the last week since we parted ways after leaving Labyrinthian."

It was Faralda's turn to be surprised. "You're one of the ones who helped retrieve the Staff of Magnus?" she asked. At Aerenwen's answering nod, she continued. "Then our College is certainly in your debt as well. Thank you for assisting us."

"Of course," Aerenwen simply replied.

"Your sister is not on the College grounds at the moment," Faralda replied. "She left word that she could be found at the inn when she left earlier this afternoon. I would invite you in to wait for her, but I'm afraid, family or not, access is restricted to members of our College."

Aerenwen sighed. That put a damper on things. "I'm here to see Mariwen, yes, and I'll seek her out at the inn, but I am hoping to gain access to your library. I am seeking information on the Elder Scrolls."

Faralda studied her for a moment. "I'm afraid we can't let just anyone into the College. The Arch-Mage could approve your visit, but since you are her sister, I fear the others will see that as nepotism."

"Would it help if I told you I am the Dragonborn?" Aerenwen asked.

Faralda's face broke into a grin. "Of course it would," she replied. "I had no idea that Mariwen's sister was the Dragonborn. Such a talented family you have. The College will do whatever it can to help you in your quest to stop the dragons. Our library is at your disposal. I'm afraid your companion, however, will need to remain in Winterhold."

Aerenwen started to argue, but Aela stopped her, reaching over and touching her on the shoulder. "It's fine, love. I'm not much for books anyway," she added with a smile. "I'll stay behind at the inn and wait for you there."

"Very well then," Faralda stated. "I hope to see more of you during your stay here, Dragonborn." With that, she turned and disappeared over the bridge, and the two women headed back down the road toward the inn.

They were surprised to see a familiar face they hadn't expected when they entered the warm building. Elain sat at one of the tables and looked up with a grin as they made their way over to her.

"What are you doing here?" Aerenwen asked, greeting her sister with a hug. She sat down, and Aela joined her on the bench opposite Elain after hugging the other woman as well.

"Vex sent for me," she replied. "Nesta was hurt in a ruin near here. Her damn Guild Master tried to kill her. The three of us have been holed up here with a Dunmer, Karliah, healing her. Mari has helped as well. Vex left a few days ago to let Brynjolf know that Nes is okay."

"Is she okay?" Aerenwen asked, extremely worried.

Elain nodded. "It was a poisoned blade, and she lost a lot of blood on top of that before Vex and Karliah could get her out of the ruin, but after lots of spells and potions, she's just about back to her old self. She's been chomping at the bit wanting out of this place to see Brynjolf, but she and Karliah need some answers before she can go back to Riften."

"What do you mean?" Aela asked.

"Apparently a decade or so ago, their old Guild Master, a man called Gallus, was murdered in the ruin of Snow Veil Sanctum, just south of here along the coast," Elain explained. "Gallus, Karliah, and Mercer, the current Guild Master, went into that ruin together, but only Mercer returned to the Guild. He claimed that Karliah had murdered Gallus and that he'd barely escaped with his own life.

"In the last few weeks, Nesta has been investigating someone who was interfering with Guild business," she continued. "As she got deeper into the investigation, she determined the grudge was against Mercer himself rather than the Guild, and she figured out that it was Karliah behind it. Immediately, she and the others in charge were suspicious. I guess some of them had never completely believed Mercer's story because Karliah and Gallus had been completely enamored with each other, and they couldn't imagine her killing him. When Mercer found out it was Karliah behind everything, he insisted on tracking her down based upon some cryptic statement she'd made about where the end began and ordered our sister to accompany him to Snow Veil Sanctum.

"Vex followed not only because she wanted to hear the truth of what happened all those years ago herself but also to protect Nesta because it was no secret that Mercer didn't like her. When they found Karliah, and she realized he wasn't alone, she used an invisibility potion to disappear, and Mercer turned around and stabbed Nes with a poisoned dagger. Apparently it was Mercer that killed Gallus, and he tried to kill Karliah as well. They've been trying to decode Gallus' journal, so they will have undeniable evidence against Mercer rather than it continuing to be a he said, she said sort of situation. But they aren't having any luck. It's written in Falmer. I think we're striking off for Markarth tomorrow to see if that old scholar Glenys has been working with can help them."

"Gods," Aerenwen muttered. "I had no idea. Where are they?"

Elain motioned toward a room on the far side of the inn, and the two women excused themselves, crossing the room and knocking on the door. An unfamiliar voice called for them to enter, and they stepped inside to see Nesta sitting up in bed with Mari and a Dunmer woman, Karliah assumedly, at her side. A Bosmer man dressed in mage robes stood near the foot of the bed.

"Aerenwen!" Nesta exclaimed happily. "It's good to see you."

"You as well," she replied, bending down to hug her. "Elain just told me what has been going on. Are you feeling better?"

The blonde Altmer nodded. "I feel fine. Not even sore anymore. Just angry and eager to get moving."

The Dunmer woman chuckled. "Elain already said she'd leave for Markarth with you tomorrow."

Nesta nodded. "I know, I know," she grumbled. "What are you doing here? They didn't send for you, too, did they?"

"Honestly, I haven't been at home, so even if they had, I wouldn't have received it," Aerenwen replied. "We're in Winterhold on Dragonborn business, actually." She turned toward Mari. "It seems I'm need of an Elder Scroll, and I was hoping your College's library may have some information on where to find one."

"It just may," Mari replied with a smile.

"I've already been granted entrance to the College based upon my Dragonborn status," she continued, "but it was made clear that Aela was to remain at the inn."

Mari chuckled. "Let me guess, Faralda?"

Aerenwen nodded.

"I'm surprised she didn't make you shout to prove it," Mari added with a grin. "I'm sorry I can't grant you entrance, Aela. My position is still new, and I don't want anyone to think I'm playing favorites or revealing the College's secrets."

Aela smiled in return. "It's no problem. I didn't mind, anyway, but at least now I know I'll be in good company," she added with a wink toward Nesta.

"Yes, what is this I hear about you being Arch-Mage?" Aerenwen asked. "When did that happen? And what took place with the staff and the eye?"

Mari stood and placed a kiss atop Nesta's head. "I'll explain it all on the way, and you can update Aela later. I should really be getting back, and I'm sure you're eager to get your answers. We delayed you in your journey long enough with the trip to Labyrinthian." She turned back toward Nesta. "I won't see you before you leave, so be careful and give Glenys a kiss for me."

Nesta promised she would do both things.

Mari said goodbye to the other two elves in the room, and Aerenwen and Aela followed her out. The two warriors parted ways with a kiss, Aela rejoining Elain at the table in the tavern, and Aerenwen following her sister out into the cold.

* * *

"So there's no more Thalmor presence at the College?" Aerenwen asked as they finally reached the end of the precariously narrow bridge that led to the College.

"Nope," Mari replied with a grin. "I killed Ancano myself, and you handled his associate. I gather he didn't share the discovery with anyone else. He wanted the power of the Eye for himself and didn't want to have to hand it over to his superiors."

"And how did you end up being Arch-Mage in all of this?" Aerenwen wondered.

Mari shrugged. "With Savos Aren dead, it left two obvious choices for Arch-Mage, but neither were ideal. Mirabelle Ervine is our Master Wizard, I actually think she may have been sleeping with Aren," she added in a whisper, glancing around to make sure no one was in ear shot. "Anyway, she had no interest in the position. She runs the College's day to day affairs and still gets to work with students. In the past, the Arch-Mage hasn't had the time to do that, something I hope to change, and she didn't want the position.

"The other obvious choice was Tolfdir because he's our most senior member," she continued, "but he's very content with his research and teaching. Not to mention, he's unbelievably absent-minded. I couldn't really imagine him serving in the position well. Anyway, Mirabelle approached me because, according to her, if it wasn't for me, the College probably would have been destroyed or taken over by Ancano, and she suspected my training was much higher than I had let on anyway. I accepted. I'm a bit overwhelmed, but so far, no one has complained about me getting promoted, so to speak. I think they're all grateful for all I did to stop Ancano."

"What happened to the Eye?" Aerenwen asked. They were crossing a large, circular outdoor plaza, a path shoveled through the snow down the middle toward a large statue of a mage and a tall, towered building with stained glass windows.

"The Psijiics came and took it," Mari answered.

They stepped inside the building, and Aerenwen glanced around curiously at the architecture. She wondered how long ago the College of Winterhold had been built. It seemed ancient.

Mari led her sister through a doorway and up some steps, emerging in a massive room lined with bookshelves. Some were open for easy browsing, others appeared to be locked up tight. A reading and research area was set up in the center of the room which was circular and recessed into the floor, and an old Orc sat behind a desk. Aerenwen wasn't certain she'd ever seen an elderly Orc before. From what she knew of the race, the only death they considered honorable was death in battle, so if they started to get old, they went out looking for a good fight to end their days. But clearly, if this Orc was at the College and in charge of the library no less, he hadn't chosen the warrior's path.

"Urag, allow me to introduce you to my sister, Aerenwen," Mari stated as she leaned against the counter with a smile. "Ren, meet Urag gro-Shub, he is in charge of our library, known to us as the Arcanaeum."

"Pleased to meet you," Aerenwen stated.

The orc gruffed out a response.

"Aerenwen is looking for some information on the Elder Scrolls," Mari explained. She turned toward her sister. "I am going to go check in with Mirabelle and see if anything of importance happened while I was away. If I'm not back before you're finished, you can probably find me in my quarters. Urag can point you in the right direction."

When they were alone, the Orc stood. "So you're looking for an Elder Scroll?" he asked, leaning on the counter with his large, greenish hands.

Aerenwen nodded.

"And just what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand girl?" he asked. "Arch-Mage may be your sister, but that doesn't mean I let just anybody dig through my books."

"Of course I do," Aerenwen replied. "I'm the Dragonborn and locating an Elder Scroll is the next step on my quest to stop the dragons' return."

The Orc seemed surprised at that but simply nodded. "Well, we don't have one here, and I don't know where to find one. Sadly, we don't have much information on them either. I'll pull out what we've got, but most of the research on the Scrolls is done by those moth priests in their temples down in Cyrodiil." He turned and walked around the room, unlocking a few bookshelves to retrieve what he was looking for, before returning and laying two books down on the counter in front of Aerenwen.

"That's it?" she asked, unable to hide her disappointment.

"I'm afraid so," he answered. "We may be the largest library in Skyrim, but we still ain't the largest library in Tamriel. I'd give anything to see the library in the Imperial City." He sat back down in his chair. "Help yourself. Try not to spill anything on them."

Aerenwen chuckled, deciding she wasn't entirely turned off by the old orc's surly disposition. She imagined her sister had probably made a hobby of trying to get a rise out of him in hopes of earning a rare smile. She took the books and wandered over to one of the chairs in the reading area.

Neither of the books was terribly informative, at least not in reference to determining the location of one of the Scrolls. In truth, Aerenwen knew very little about the Elder Scrolls. She knew there were several. She knew that no one was certain where they had come from or just who had written them, and she knew that they held prophecies within their writings. The Moth Priests of Cyrodiil devoted their lives to studying them, and she wondered if she'd end up having to travel south to the Imperial Province in order to get her hands on one, though she doubted those old priests would be willing to share any they had found. It was also rumored that many Moth Priests eventually went blind, the ordeal of reading the Elder Scrolls being just too much for their mortal brains to handle.

One of the books, _Ruminations on the Elder Scrolls_ , was difficult to read, just line after line of lunacy. She seriously doubted the sanity of whomever had written it.

Aerenwen returned the books to Urag after reading them, lying them down on the counter. "Thank you," she stated.

"Any help?" he asked.

"Not much," she replied honestly. "This one was nearly impossible to read," she added, pointing to _Ruminations_. "It's incomprehensible."

He chuckled. "That's Septimus Signus' book."

She glanced down and read that this was indeed the author's name and and raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"He's the world's master of the nature of Elder Scrolls," Urag explained. "He was actually here at the College. I never knew why his research brought him here, but it did. He's been gone for a long while. Too long."

"Where did he go?" she wondered.

"Somewhere up north in the ice fields," Urag replied. "Seems he found some old Dwemer artifact he was going to check out and was supposed to return after, but that was years ago. Haven't heard from him since."

Aerenwen thanked the Orc for the information and struck off to find her sister after he had given her directions to the Arch-Mage's quarters.


	39. Septimus Signus

Chapter Four: Septimus Signus (Turdas, the Eleventh of Evening Star)

Aela had been grumbling since not long after they left. They'd rented a small rowboat off a merchant in Winterhold. Though the city's docks were destroyed long ago, they still had a small mooring just west of the College, and apparently this merchant made regular trips to Dawnstar to procure goods. She wasn't planning on heading out anytime soon, thanks to the weather, and was more than pleased to earn some coin from the women borrowing her boat.

The seas were choppy, and even when they weren't, the further north they traveled into the Sea of Ghosts, the more ice blocked their path. They used their oars for pushing away from and around the ice more than they did for rowing.

Aerenwen couldn't blame her lover for being less than thrilled with this endeavor, but that being said, it couldn't be put off. If this Septimus Signus fellow was the most knowledgeable on the Elder Scrolls, she needed to find where he had disappeared to and hope he was still alive, and she couldn't wait until spring brought fairer weather in a few months to do so.

After what seemed like hours, and may possibly have been, they came across what appeared to be a floating island made of ice. It could have actually been land. It was hard to tell. This far north, everything was covered in layers of ice and snow. Another rowboat was pulled up onto the ice there, and torches lit the entrance of a cave with a rough wooden door over it.

The two women steered their own boat ashore and walked carefully across the ice, making their way inside whatever this place was.

As luck would have it, Aerenwen gathered they were in the right place. They climbed down a ladder and could hear a man crazily muttering to himself as they descended into the area carved from the ice. Within the area sat a giant metal contraption that definitely had the makings of some sort of Dwemer construct. The area around it had been set up as a living space, complete with a bed, table and chairs, book shelf, and stocked pantry. Septimus may not have returned to the College in years, but he'd evidently been traveling somewhere to keep fresh supplies on hand.

"Dig, Dwemer, in the beyond," the man was muttering. "I'll know your lost unknown and rise to your depths."

The man was dressed in mage robes and was clearly an Imperial, though he wasn't as old Aerenwen had expected. His full beard was still a rich, red color, showing only slight traces of gray in it. She wondered if he had been a moth priest before traveling north or if all of his research on the Scrolls had been done independently. She also wondered if it was that research, and possibly having read one or more of the Elder Scrolls, that had caused him to begin to lose his mind.

"Excuse me, sir," she stated as she and Aela reached the bottom of the area where he stood studying the large object. "Are you Septimus Signus?"

He glanced at Aerenwen, not even seeming surprised by her appearance, and nodded.

"I heard you know about Elder Scrolls," she stated.

"Elder Scrolls, indeed," he muttered. "The Empire. They absconded with them, or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw."

That was in reference to the Moth Priests, Aerenwen was sure of it. They kept all of the Elder Scrolls they had found under tight security in Cyrodiil, but, from the sounds of it, they hadn't found them all yet.

"I know of one," Septimus stated proudly. "Forgotten. Sequestered." He sighed. "But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus for I . . . I have arisen beyond its grasp."

Aerenwen glanced at Aela who was studying the man with concern. He was definitely not all right in the head. "Where is this Scroll?" Aerenwen asked, deciding she didn't need to spend too much time chit chatting with a lunatic. His wisdom had turned to madness, and she was eager to get the information she needed and move on.

"Here," he replied with a smile. "Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby."

Aerenwen sighed and attempted to rediscover her patience. She had already lost it with this man. "Look, I need this Elder Scroll. The fate of the world depends on it. Can you tell me where it is, or not?"

"As one block raises another, perhaps ourselves can help us each," the scholar offered.

Ah, so he was willing to give the information she wanted in exchange for her help. Perhaps he wasn't so crazy after all. "What do you want?" she asked.

"You see this masterwork of the Dwemer?" he wondered, gesturing toward the large metal object beside him. "Deep inside their greatest knowings. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the Dwemer. Lucky then they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies. Have you heard of Blackreach?"

Aerenwen shook her head somewhat impatiently.

"'Cast upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept'," he quoted, though Aerenwen had no idea what exactly he was quoting, it was just clear he was reciting something from memory.

"Where is this Blackreach?" she asked.

"Under deep," he replied. "Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand, the point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond, but not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock."

Aerenwen sighed and glanced at Aela who looked even more unimpressed than she was currently feeling. "How do I get in?"

"Two things I have for you," the man answered, wandering over to a cupboard and picking up two objects. "Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings, but empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know." He handed the two objects to Aerenwen. One was an odd metal sphere. The other was a metal cube with fine carvings and etchings all over it.

She tucked the two objects into her satchel and wandered back the way she had come, eager to get away from the crazy man who had been helpful yet also unhelpful at the same time if that was possible.

"We need Glenys," she told Aela as they reached the cold surface again. "I didn't understand a thing that lunatic said, and she knows more about the Dwemer than anyone else I know."

* * *

As soon as they had returned home, Aerenwen had penned a letter to her sister, explaining briefly what was going on, making sure to mention Blackreach and the Elder Scroll, and paid a currier extra to get it to Markarth as quickly as possible.

Not even three days later, she opened her door to reveal Vorstag and Glenys standing on her doorstep. They greeted each other, and Aerenwen proudly introduced her son to the only aunt he hadn't met yet. Aela was at Jorrvaskr, and Glenys was excited to learn of what was going on.

"Your letter didn't say much," she stated as she had a seat in one of the chairs beside the fire. Vorstag glanced around the house curiously before sitting down at the small table in the corner. "Something about Blackreach, an Elder Scroll, and a crazy old man?"

Aerenwen chuckled as she sat down beside her sister. "Well, as you know, Alduin's Wall told us that a Shout was what defeated Alduin during the Dragon War. I went to the Greybeards for answers, but all I got from them was the name of the Shout, Dragonrend. They claim that no one left in Skyrim remembers the words of power needed for it. I spoke with their leader Paarthurnax."

"You mean Paarthurnax, as in the dragon Paarthurnax?" Glenys interrupted excitedly.

Aerenwen nodded. "He's actually quite pleasant to talk with. I never thought I would enjoy the company of a dragon, but I did enjoy his, immensely. Anyway, he explained that he doesn't know Dragonrend either because it was the ancient Nords that developed it as a weapon against the dragons, so basically, dragons can't comprehend that Shout enough to ever be able to use it, but he also explained to me what exactly happened with Alduin all those years ago."

Glenys inched forward in her seat eagerly.

"Apparently, Dragonrend crippled Alduin but wasn't enough to defeat him," Aerenwen explained, "so they came up with a plan to use an Elder Scroll against him. They met him at the summit of the Throat of the World and used the Scroll and, essentially, sent Alduin forward in time. They had hoped, apparently, it would mean he would just disappear, but Paarthurnax knew, and warned them, that he would come back someday."

"So basically he's just been floating in time for thousands of years and then reappeared just where he disappeared all these years later," Glenys muttered in fascination.

"Exactly," Aerenwen replied. "I need to learn this Shout, but as there is no one left in Tamriel that can teach it to me, Paarthurnax has a theory that sounds worth testing. He said that by the Nords doing what they did with the Scroll on that mountain, they created a sort of Time-Break there, and he feels if I were to read an Elder Scroll in that spot, I may be able to cast myself backwards through time to the other end of the Time-Break and learn Dragonrend from the Nords who created it and used it against Alduin."

"This is fascinating!" Glenys squealed. Aerenwen wasn't sure she'd ever met anyone who got so excited over learning things as her youngest sister. "What does this have to do with Blackreach?" she asked.

"First, what exactly is Blackreach?" she wondered.

"A great land of the Dwemer," Glenys replied. "Supposedly, they delved so deep with their cities that they came across an entire new area, almost like a whole other plane of existence, deep in the depths below Skyrim. They say it spans almost the entire length of Skyrim, but underground, and it was how the Dwemer traveled from city to city without needing to access the surface. Many have sought it out, but if they've found it, they haven't lived to document their findings."

"Well, in order to find an Elder Scroll, I traveled to the College of Winterhold to see if they had any information on them," Aerenwen continued. "They didn't have much, but I learned of a man called Septimus Signus, apparently one of the forerunners of Elder Scroll knowledge."

Glenys nodded. "I've heard of him and read his works. He used to speak quite publicly against the Moth Priests' hoarding of the Scrolls. His early works are quite well done. The more recent ones are more . . . difficult."

"Lunacy," Aerenwen stated. "Anyway, Aela and I found Septimus out in the ice fields on the Sea of Ghosts north of Winterhold. He's holed up there studying some Dwemer machine he found. He wants an Elder Scroll, but for whatever reason, isn't going to get the one he claims is in Blackreach. I doubt he'd survive the trip honestly." She stood and crossed the room to the cupboard where she had placed the objects he had given her. "He gave me these. He said the sphere was a key of some sort, something about music and tuning, and then claimed that something in Blackreach would transcribe the contents of the Elder Scroll onto this cube. He wants me to return the cube to him for his research, and I can keep the Elder Scroll."

Glenys took the objects and studied them closely. "This is a lexicon," she said, holding up the cube. "The Dwemer could inscribe the equivalent of millions of books, supposedly even their own memories, onto the lexicons and somehow access them later. This sphere is used for tuning and is called an Atunement Sphere. Everything the Dwemer created, all their machines, run on electroharmonics, which is basically the music of the universe. There is an energy, a music if you will, that radiates through everything. We just can't hear it. The Dwemer found ways to tap into this music and tune it for their own uses. If this is a key, I imagine we put it in some sort of receptacle, and it will tune the electroharmonics of the door in such a way that it will open."

Aerenwen found the entire thing baffling.

"How does he claim you get to Blackreach?" Glenys wanted to know.

"Alftand," Aerenwen replied. "I looked it up, and it's a set of Dwemer ruins on the northern coast between Dawnstar and Winterhold. He says if we travel through them to the bottom and use that sphere, Blackreach is just beyond. Then when we're there, we need to find the Tower of Mzark. That's where the Elder Scroll is."

Glenys nodded. "I'd never thought to use a lexicon for reading an Elder Scroll. It makes so much sense and probably at least partially explains why the Dwemer were so much more advanced in so many things than the rest of us. They didn't succumb to madness or blindness after reading the Scrolls because they had machines that actually did the reading for them and just passed on the knowledge." She looked up from the lexicon and glanced at her sister with pleading eyes. "Can we come?"

Aerenwen glanced at Vorstag who shrugged.

"I figured we would be," he stated with a wry grin. "There's no talking her out of exploring Dwemer ruins when she has a chance. I've learned that first hand."

Aerenwen chuckled. "Of course you can," she replied. "Aela and I were just waiting on what information you could give us before we left. Septimus was informative but completely mad. I felt like I needed someone who knew more about the Dwemer to help me understand what he had to say. Would you be up for leaving in a couple of days? I've got some Companions business I would like to take care of first."

"That's fine," Glenys answered with a smile. "I haven't been to Whiterun since we first arrived in Skyrim and never had the opportunity to explore. Plus, I'd love to get to know my nephew better."


End file.
